


How to Become Warden-Commander and Other Tales

by StoleTarts



Series: Dragon Age: A How-To Guide [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Best Friends, F/M, Fantasy, Gay Male Character, M/M, Male Friendship, Male Slash, Romantic Comedy, Same-Sex Marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-02-25 04:51:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2609174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoleTarts/pseuds/StoleTarts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The continuation of How to Adopt a Future Grey Warden and Other Tales following the Warden's life after marriage to King Alistair into commanding Vigil's Keep up to saving Amaranthine.  (M/M Slash. M!Warden/Alistair, follows in-game story progression of Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When You Lower Your Recruitment Standards

**Author's Note:**

> *Disclaimer: A few lines of dialogue have been taken directly from the game or have been paraphrased from game dialogue. Anything recognizable as game dialogue is not mine, and I bow to the BioWare writing team.*

The official titles which loomed over Izarre’s head were Warden-Commander of Ferelden, Queen of Ferelden, and Prince-Consort to the High King of Ferelden. He openly distained the Queen one and promptly corrected anyone who used it that Warden-Commander or His Royal Highness were much easier to mentally process. With the death of the Archdemon, the Blight was defeated and most of the horde scattered north from Denerim towards the Coastlands where they fractured into warring tribes.

Despite the fall of their supposed leader, the region still fell into chaos as the darkspawn emerged from hidden lairs to terrorize the countryside. As the new Warden-Commander of Ferelden, it was now Izarre’s responsibility to rebuild the order and deal with the lingering threat. As part of Alistair’s new reign, the Wardens also had gained control over Vigil’s Keep, once home to Arl Rendon Howe, and happily ransacked it after his death.

“Is there a reason why we’re walking up this path instead of taking a cart?” Annoyed at the ridiculously long hike, Izzare turned to his female guide to the Keep and supposed bodyguard, Mhairi, to ask the question.

“I apologize, Warden-Commander. We were to be picked up ages ago. Perhaps the day of your arrival was confused, but we should be seeing others at their post. What is going on? Why are there no Wardens here to greet us?” The dark whispers which began to fill Izarre’s mind held the answer to her question. Holding out his arm, he stopped the solider at his side as a pair of twin ice blades manifested in the palms of his hands.

“Darkspawn. We’re surrounded.” Looking at startled at first, Mhairi quickly found her conviction as she also readied herself to fight as well. Soon, two small Genlock rogues popped out from the shadows in an attempt to catch the humans off-guard. Izarre kicked one of the little critters in the chest, effectively knocking it over, which gave him time to toss a magical blade into the back of the neck of the second rogue which was trying to find an opening past the woman’s defenses.

“Gratitude, Commander,” she smiled while bashing the Genlock down onto the cobblestone with her shield and decapitated the beast with its sharpened under point. The Warden used his off-hand ice dagger to stab his attacker in the chest and let the magic seep into the monster until it froze over completely. As he yanked the blade out, the frigid corpse shattered from the force of it.

“It’s you!” yelled a male solider as he came out of hiding and ran towards the victors. “The Hero of Ferleden! Oh, thank the Maker!”

“How did this happen?” Izarre asked as he noticed the surviving man had more than just darkspawn blood on him. “Where are the other Wardens?”

“There was someone right behind me, a mage! He might have been a Warden, I don’t know! All I heard were screams and people dying; I got out as fast as I could and ran into these…” Physically exhausted and distraught, the man choked up at the thought of what the darkspawn may have done to the others. “You need to help them. You need to do something!”

“Run for help. Now,” the Warden ordered as he pointed off into the distance. “I’ll take care of this.”

“Yes, my lord! Thank you, my lord!” After bowing several times, the man ran off back down the path as fast as his bruised legs could carry him.

“We don’t have a lot of time, Commander,” Mhairi said with a stern look in her eyes.

“No, we don’t. This is the Keep, yes? Who’s in charge here?

“We are at the Keep,” she replied. “Which once belong to the Howes, but considering what he did to you and the rest of the order, losing their lands is probably the least of his family’s problems. The Seneschal here is Varel. He is the Keep’s Steward, I believe, working for the Wardens.” After thinking over the information for a bit, Izarre nodded and pressed onward.

“We should keep moving. Stay close and we won’t be taken by surprise. Maker, I sound like Alistair…”

“Right! Let’s teach these evil bastards a lesson.” Walking into the fortress wasn’t a pleasant stroll. The bodies of those who died trying to keep the horde at bay were left scattered all over the ground while the stench of burning flesh and hair crept inside of Warden’s and his bodyguard’s noses.  “Unbelievable! The Keep has been overwhelmed!” Turning to the Commander, Mhairi asked the most obvious of questions. “How did the Wardens not sense the darkspawn coming? I don’t understand it!”

“Something strange is definitely going on,” he mumbled in a low voice while trying to listen out for the familiar scratching and garbled conversations, but his guide’s nerves were getting the best of her.

“For the darkspawn to have ambushed the Keep so effectively…I didn’t know they were capable of such a thing!”

“Pull yourself together and keep your voice down before we get ambushed ourselves!”

“Ye…Yes, Commander. I’ll try.” In an attempt to shake the feelings off, she straightened her posture only to duck down again when a loud explosion and smoke came from a small storage shed to their right. Both ran off to see what was inside, only to catch the last few seconds of flames coming from a stranger’s fingertips which were effectively roasting the last few darkspawn that were trying to kill him. Shaking the sparks from his nails away, he turned to realize that he wasn’t alone anymore.

“Er,” he stammered as he looked at the heavily armed guests. “I didn’t do it.”

“Do _what_ exactly?” As Izarre leaned over, he noticed that some of those burnt to crisp bodies were also Templars. “Oh. Nevermind.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” the seemingly guilty Mage tried to explain. “I’m not broken up about them dying, to be perfectly honest. Biff there made the funniest gurgle when he went down…But that was from the darkspawn, not me. Honest.” Cocking an eyebrow, the young Warden folded his arms over his chest to stare at the blond in front of him.

“And…who are you supposed to be again?”

“Oh. Right.” After clearing his throat, the man formally bowed. “I’m Anders, mage and wanted apostate.”

“An apostate? In Vigil’s Keep?” Mhairi asked, sounding a bit concerned.

“You weren’t here when we arrived. I’m sure I would have remembered such a lovely woman as yourself…You too, there,” Anders commented suggestively towards both the bodyguard and to whom she as supposed to be protecting. “We were just stopping here on our way back to the towers. Just a short rest, they said, and now they’re dead. Such a shame.”

“I care not who or what you are so long as you kill darkspawn,” Izarre shrugged and turned to leave the building.

“Then you and I will get along just fine, I think. I hope,” the Mage flirted a bit more heavily and wasn’t very specific of the direction it took. “Look, I suppose I could help you with the rest of these darkspawn…or you could just let me go. They’ll send more Templars to find me eventually. They always do.”

“So help then. We need to force our way past the barricade.” Anders snickered a bit and began to mimic the Commander’s militant stance and walk until Mhairi shot him a nasty glare.

“Are you sure about this, Commander?” she asked hesitantly as she questioned the logic of bringing along such a character.

“I can’t say I’m fond of these darkspawn, even though I’m no Grey Warden,” Anders interrupted as he pushed himself between the two. “Let’s deal with them now, and we can discuss what comes later…later,” He smiled at the cautious protector and then to his new fearless leader with all the charm he could muster. Before she could protest, a charge of darkspawn ran through the gate just a few yards ahead of them only to be mocked by a surviving dwarf.

“Oh, we’re scared now. Don’t come over here. Ha!” While waving his hands in the air, the stout man mocked the monsters into running inside the courtyard, but before the trio could make it down the stairs, a massive triggered bomb blew the tainted attackers into fiery meaty chunks. “It’ll take more than that to kill us, beasties. Come again if you dare!” With a mad cackle, the dwarf ran off into the shadows. Izarre groaned knowing the fireworks would probably only alert _more_ darkspawn to their location and walked ahead to let himself into one of the main buildings before that could happen. There, he saw yet another dwarf as crazy as the first one, but at least he knew this one’s name.

Oghren took the time to stop cutting off heads with his massive axe for a moment to wave at his friend. Both Mhairi and Anders were taken back as Izarre suddenly bursted out laughing. “A-ha! There you are!” the Firebeard yelled. “When these darkspawn showed up, I thought, ‘ _just you wait until the new commander gets here and you’ll all be spitting teeth out of your arses!’_ Followed the screaming, and sure enough, here you are. Good on ya!”

“He’s not that dangerous, is he?” Anders asked Mhairi. “I mean, look how little and cute he is. It must be like being attacked by a giant bunny rabbit.” Ignoring the comments about his height and fluffiness, Izarre walked towards Oghren to speak to him instead.

“It’s good to see you, but what are you doing here? Last time I checked, you got a little boy and Felsi to take care of.”

“Came here thinking I might try my hand at becoming a bona fide Grey Warden.”

“He was here when I left. I can’t believe the Wardens didn’t kick him out,” the female fighter huffed.

“And why would they?” Izarre rebutted. “Oghren was the Commander in charge when the darkspawn attacked Denerim’s gates. He’s a hero to everyone he saved by stopping the second and third waves of attack while the rest of us were attempting to take down the Archdemon.”

“Hey!” Oghren laughed. “Don’t embarrass me in front of the new recruit with the great rack! Who’s the mage anyway? Boyfriend? Should I leave you two alone?” It was another joke that didn’t specify if it was meant for the woman or the Warden himself.

“Wow,” Anders rolled his eyes. “A dwarf that smells like a brewery. You never see that _anywhere_.”

“Huh. A mage comedian. Thought those normally died young.”

“He’s still young,” Izarre smirked and turned to pat his friend on the shoulder. “You know there are risks to joining the Grey Wardens, right?”

“There are risks to getting up in the morning,” the Dwarf scoffed. “I piss on risk.”

“I’m sure risk appreciates that,” Ander mumbled under his breath, but was ignored by everyone else.

“We should get going then. We need to enter the main hall and flush the rest of these foul creatures out.” Nodding in agreement, Oghren followed Izarre which left Anders and Mhairi feeling a bit left out of the inner circle. Upon entering another hallway, they spotted another survivor doubled over pain and barely able to speak.

“Oh no! Rowland!” Mhairi cried out. “Commander, Rowland was a knight recruited from Denerim like me. We must do something for him!”

“…He looks beyond healing magic,” Anders sympathized. “Maybe a shot of whisky for the pain?”

“I like the way you think,” Oghren agreed.

“Stop joking!” she yelled at them for making light of the situation. “This isn’t funny!”

“The…the Commander?” Rowland asked weakly while turning to see his hero.

“Yes,” Izarre nodded as he kneeled down to get close. “What happened here? Where are the others?”

“We…only had a moment’s warning before they were on us, Commander. The Seneschal ordered a counter-attack, but they came out of nowhere! There’s one with them, a darkspawn who talks; his magic is powerful.”

“A talking darkspawn?” Oghren questioned. “The lad must be delirious.”

“There’s…something…in my blood! It hurts!” The injured recruit cried out as he grabbed his sides.

“It’s alright.” While speaking in a soothing voice, Izarre placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Close your eyes. The pain will be over soon.”

“It was an honor to meet you, Commander. I wish I could have fought at your side just once…” A spurt of blood was coughed up from his final breath as the man’s own sword was run through him.

“What!” cried Mhairi. “Why did you do that?!”

“He was infected with darkspawn blood,” the Commander stated matter-of-factly. “As a Warden, you are immune from the infection as long as you live…but anyone else…It would have been a slow and painful way to go. There is no cure for the taint…I am sorry. I thought you knew.”

“I…I will avenge you, Rowland. I swear it.” As they continued to press forward though the Keep, the Bodyguard had more vigor in her strikes. Oghren seemed to just enjoy killing things while Anders actively shielded his new comrades with a natural knack of the healing arts. After making their way to the rooftop, Izarre once again heard a darkspawn’s voice, but this time, it wasn’t just in his head. Ducking behind a corner, he shushed his raiding party before peeking around to see what was going on.

“It has ended just as he foretold,” a large armor Hurlock spoke with his actual voice before punting a hostage solider of a ledge to the ground below. “Be taking this one, gently. We are wishing no more death than is necessary.” It referred to an older man behind held down on his knees with a sword to his throat.

“Necessary?” the prisoner said with disbelief. “As if your kind has ever done anything else!”

“You are thinking you know of our kind, human? It is understandable. But that will soon be changed.”

“Others will come, creature! They will stop you!”

“It seems your words be true, more than you are guessing,” the undead monster spoke.

“It _is_ talking!” Anders said loudly with a smile, effectively exposing his group’s hiding spot.

“Well, let’s shut it up already!” Oghren grumbled as he pushed his way to the front with his axe tightly gripped in both hands.

“Capture the Grey Warden! These others, they may be killed.” As the second Hurlock holding the older man captive was about to slice the throat of its prisoner, it soon found itself with a frozen spike it its forehead before it could do any more harm. Anders looked to Izarre surprised by the use of magic from the combatant, but didn’t have time to worry or ask any burning questions about it before being ordered to take care of any dire or life-threatening wounds the prisoner may have had.

The talking darkspawn put up a fight, but was grossly outnumbered and soon fell to Mhairi’s sword. Izarre busied himself helping the older man to his feet after Anders was done with some magical triage. “Commander,” he said. “I owe you my life.” Looking over the roof’s ledge, he spotted a few moving bodies marching towards the Keep that thankfully weren’t anymore darkspawn reinforcements. “Soldiers on the road,” he pointed out. “It seems we have more company.” Looking over as well, Izarre quickly recognized the banner being flown and hurried back down to the main gate in order to greet them properly with the rest of his party running after him.

Out of breath by the time he got down to the courtyard again, he leaned against a stone wall until the new arrivals came through the entryway led by King Alistair and an unknown female Templar. Everyone took a knee as the King walked up to his lover with a smile of his own. “It looks like I arrived a bit late. Too bad. I rather miss the whole darkspawn-killing thing,” he teased.

“King Alistair!” Mhairi exclaimed from her kneel. “Commander! You must also take a knee in front of royalty!” Alistair looked to the woman with a bemused expression for a moment before eyeing Izarre with the same face.

“Yes, you must bow in front of royalty,” he agreed as he took Izarre’s hand and bowed deeply in front of everyone. A blush crept upon the young Commander’s face as he gave the hand that was being held an affectionate squeeze.

“Stop joking and stand up,” he mumbled and Oghren just laughed.

“You two at it again? Does the smell of darkspawn blood work as an aphrodisiac with you Wardens or something? You know, there’s a closet I can point you to in case you’re looking for a _quick pick-me-up_ , heh.” Mhairi looked up front her kneel confused while Anders seemed less amused by the pair and was entirely too busy staring daggers at the Templar instead.

“Do not fret, madam,” Alistair said to Bodyguard. “This may be your new Commander, but this is also my better half. My best half, really.”

“So…there are two kings?” she asked, but Izarre shook his head.

“One King,” he promptly corrected while pointing to Alistair. “And one Prince-Consort, but please, simply address me by Commander here. We aren’t in the castle.”

“True enough,” Alistair nodded. “I’d wanted to come and give the Wardens a formal welcome. I certainly wasn’t expecting this. What’s the situation?”

“What darkspawn remained have fled, your Majesty. The Grey Wardens who had arrived from Orlais appear to be either dead or…missing,” said the man whom Izarre rescued from the rooftop. Bewildered by the news, Alistair raised a curious eyebrow.

“Missing? As in taken by the darkspawn? Do they even do that?”

“I do not know, your Majesty. I know only that we cannot account for all the Wardens.”

“Wonderful.” While sighing, the King’s shoulders slumped. “And how about you, my love? You weren’t badly hurt, I see.” Shaking his head, Izarre squeezed he was still holding for a second time.

“Of course not, but are you planning on joining me, dear husband?” It was a flirty suggestion which made the bystanders uncomfortable once again.

“Oh, I wish. Doesn’t even tempt me like that, you minx. Eamon will have a heart attack.”

“More so than when he walked in on us that one time…?”

“Hm…yes. For some reason I believe forgoing my _kingly duties_ to chase baddies with you again will make him not even bat an eye if he walks in during our sexy alone again. Still, you have quite the task ahead of you. Really, I’d like to help you fight darkspawn, but you’re on your own for the moment.”

“Hey!” Oghren yelled, apparently having listened to the entire conversation. “What am I? Chopped nug livers?”

“From the smell, that’s not a bad guess,” Anders added as he finally stopped squaring off what appeared to be his mortal enemy.

“I came here to join the Grey Wardens,” the Firebeard declared as he puffed his chest out. “And from the looks of it, you could use the extra hands! Where’s the giant cup? I’ll gargle and spit!” Making a face, Izarre turned to his friend.

“You’re not allowed to spit.”

“Heh. That’s what I always say…” Both Alistair and Anders snickered at the remark while Mhairi looked disgusted and Izarre just rolled his eyes, but gave a playful nudge to his King knowingly.

“I…suppose all are welcome, in this dire time,” the female warrior said against her better judgment.

“Joining the Wardens, hey?” Anders shrugged. “Well good luck with that.”

“King Alistair,” the Templar finally spoke up. “Your Majesty, beware! This man is a dangerous criminal!”

“Oh, the Dwarf is a bit of an arse, but I wouldn’t go _that_ …”

“She means me,” Anders interrupted with a lowered head.

“This is an apostate who we were in the process of bringing back to the Circle to face justice!”

“Oh, please!” With a dismissive hand, the Mage waved her off. “The things you people know about justice would fit into a thimble. I’ll just escape again, anyhow.”

“Never!” she protested. “I’ll see you hanged for what you’ve done here, murderer!”

“Murderer?” Anders’s face cringed at the insult. “But those Templars were…Oh, what’s the use? You won’t believe me anyhow.”

“Well,” Alistair interrupted and stepped between the two. “It seems there isn’t much to say. Unless…you have something to add, my dear?”

“I do,” he said as he turned to Anders with a mischievous grin. “I hereby conscript this mage into the Grey Wardens.”

“What?!” the Templar nearly screamed. “Never!”

“Ahem,” coughed the King. “I believe the Grey Wardens still retain the Right on Conscription, no? I will allow it.” Outnumbered and cornered, the woman had no choice, but to accept the ruling.

“If…If your Majesty feels it is best…”

“Ha!” laughed Oghren. “Way to go, kid! Welcome aboard!”

“Me?” The blonde’s mood suddenly lightened. “A Grey Warden? I guess that will work…” Even though Mhairi didn’t approve of this new recruit either, she swallowed her pride and forced a smile at him as well.

“Congratulations, ser mage. I look forward to fighting at your side.”

“Then you have everything under control, I will need to take my leave,” Alistair said softly to Izarre while gently pulling his hand away.

“I believe the estate has been secured, yes,” the rescued captive spoke with a bow. “We have suffered great losses, but the darkspawn are gone and there are survivors. Oh…excuse my manners. I am Varel, seneschal of Vigil’s Keep. And I am most grateful for your timely rescue, Your…other…Majesty…Commander. I will aid you in ruling the lands of Amaranthine.”

“Just Commander is fine, and other survivors?”

“Yes, Commander,” Varel bowed once again. “Some of the soldiers and the Vigil staff survived. But none of the Orlesian Wardens made it. Come and speak to me soon. There are many matters to attend to, not the least of which is the Joining. You will need to replenish your numbers.” The Wardens watched as the Seneschal took his leave until Alistair’s hands were upon his spouse’s wait and backside, turning him around.

“I hate having to ask you to do this, love. I’d be so much more interesting to keep you at court,” the King whispered into a pale ear as he nosed the sensitive flesh there.

“So why don’t you?” the smaller Warden whispered back even though it was something they both knew the answer to.

“Such a paramour,” Alistair grumbled. “Sadly, I need to deal with trouble in the Bannorn and now explain why Grey Wardens from Orlais are missing without sounding like I’m the one who caused it, but I will return as soon as I’m able. I promise. Hopefully, this mess will be dealt with and it’ll be just the two of in bed again. Is it too early for a second honeymoon?”

“A bit,” Izarre sighed as he took a step back away from Alistair to make the separation a bit easier.

“It will be up to you to deal with the vestiges of the Blight before the situation grows out of control. No easy task, but I’m confident you are up to it. Now, let me say a quick good-bye before I change my mind.” With that, Alistair reached out to give his loved one a kiss on the cheek, but was easily swept away when he was pulled into a much deeper kiss causing even his own soldiers to look towards the sky to keep from staring. With a smile, he turned to walk away, giving a wink before leaving. Izarre turned away only after the King and his accompaniment vanish over the horizon. With Alistair out of sight, his militant tone returned as he ordered everyone else back into the Keep.


	2. How to Out Howe a Howe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer: A few lines of dialogue have been taken directly from the game or have been paraphrased from game dialogue. Anything recognizable as game dialogue is not mine, and I bow to the BioWare writing team.*

In the Keep, despite how Izarre’s mood had significantly soured, the Seneschal knew that there were some urgent matters to take care of. “Right now, I know of only one living Warden assigned to all of Ferelden other than the King himself. That should be rectified,” he said to the grumpy young man leaning against a far wall by himself while the other strays he had picked up were busy talking amongst themselves in various places around the main hall. Oghren had found a wine cask bigger than his entire body and had decided to completely forgo the use of a mug to drain the barrel while Anders continued to make cheesy small talk with an eye-rolling Mhairi.  “Despite their…unique talents, the others could aid you considerably.”

With a heavy sigh, the Commander nodded. “Fine,” he grumbled as he pulled himself away from his sulking post and moved to stand at the head of the room next to Varel. “Let’s begin the Joining, then.”

“As you wish, Commander. Please everyone, gather around.” It didn’t take much time to prepare the goblet and everyone who was participating stood in line under watchful eyes. “The time has come for us to begin the Joining. I shall speak the words that have been said since the first.” Clearing his throat, Varel held the goblet up and Izarre looked at it with an uneasy gaze. He remembered his Joining all too well. “Join us, brother and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day we shall join you.” Turning to the Dwarf first, the goblet held out. “From this moment forth, Oghren, you are a Grey Warden.”

“What’s this?” scoffed the Firebeard. “The sampler size? Are you trying to say something about my height, eh?”

“Er…this is the goblet we’ve always used,” the Seneschal explained as he looked to Izarre for assistance, only to see the Commander covering his mouth as he turned away in laughter.

“Really?” the stout man asked in disbelief. “Huh.” With a shrug, he drank from the cup he was offered and immediately felt dazed and burned by the tainted blood. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, but instead of passing out like most recruits, a large blench escaped from his lips. “Not bad.” A round of snickering hit Izarre again and he waved for Varel to continue as he desperately tried to compose himself.

“…Maker help us.” With a drawn out sigh at both the Prince-Consort and the freshly added Warden, the Seneschal moved on to the frisky Mage. “From this moment forth, Anders, you are a Grey Warden.”

“So we need to drink darkspawn blood? That’s it? Well all right, but if I wake up two weeks from now on a ship bound for Rivain in nothing but my smallclothes and a tattoo on my forehead, I’m blaming you.” Raising an eyebrow, Izarre had to ask.

“…How many times has that happened you to before?”

“You really don’t want to know,” quipped the Healer before taking a sip from the cup. Like Oghren, his eyes also rolled up to show nothing but their whites before he made a bit of a gurgling sound and passed out. Kneeling over to check for signs of life, Varel turned to give the Commander a nod.

“He lives and will awaken in time.” With the Mage down for the count, the goblet was finally passed along to Mhairi.

“I have awaited this moment,” she smiled confidently and took her drink. There was a burn in the back of her throat as expected, but then there was a sudden pain and violent choking. Grabbing her own neck, she struggled to breathe being only able to cough while foaming at the mouth. As she fell to her knees, the last thing she heard was Varel’s apologies.

I am sorry, Mhairi,” he said the last bit of life left her body. “May the Maker watch over you now.” Izarre frowned at the sight of the fallen Bodyguard before waving servants over to take her body from the room.

“Give her the proper burial rights and store her ashes. She was the first to fall of the new order here in Ferelden, but will not be the last. Take Anders to a private room to rest as well and outfit him to proper attire. He is no longer a runaway Circle mage, understood?”

“What about the Dwarf?” one of the staff asked as they watched amusingly as Oghren had somehow found his way back to the wine barrel even in his condition.

“He…will be fine. That is all.” With a bow, the called-upon helpers left carrying Mhairi to be cremated and Anders away to rest.

“Poor Mhairi,” frowned Varel as he waved his arms. “You can come forward now!” he yelled at the two others pacing by the main entrance. A middle-aged man dressed in heavy armor followed by an elderly woman in civilian clothes came storming in, arguing as they approached.

“The Commander must be informed about the Deep Roads entrance,” yelled the male dressed for battle. “It could be their base of operation.”

“You’d have the Wardens chase a rumor, then, Captain?” the woman asked as she stared with a bit of contempt.  “And even if it proves true, unless the Pilgrim’s Path is cleared by the time your army assembles, they’ll have nothing to eat but shoe leather.”

“Garevel. Woolsey. The Commander has had a long day,” Varel interrupted them. Shaking his head, he turned to face Izarre.

“Yes, the Commander has,” the tired Warden responded. “I need to go check on Anders and someone make sure that you keep that wine barrel full for Oghren. You don’t want to see him sober.” Bowing, he left to go find out where they had put his new comrade and was pointed in the direction of a servant’s quarters that was no longer occupied because of the slaughter earlier that day. Creeping in slowly, he shut the door behind himself and used the candlelight to see his way around. As instructed, there was a new set of armor waiting for the Healer arranged on a clothing’s dummy. Instead of a ratty, dress-like robe, this was more suitable for combat. There was a padded green and tan jacket garnished with black feathers on the shoulders with matching pants and laced-up boots. There was even a new staff for Anders to wield as well once he woke up. Pulling up a stool, Izarre took a nearby clean washcloth and bowl of water to tend to the post-Joining fever since he had no bearing on how to use any sort of healing magic. The only thing he could do was dip his finger into the liquid to make it cooler.

“Oh…That feels lovely. Thank you,” Anders mumbled as he opened his eyes to see his Commander treating him with care. With a smile, he moved his hand up to caress the other Warden’s face, but Izarre moved out of the way.

“You’re going to be a bit dizzy, but you’ll come out of it soon,” he said as he tossed the towel down to splat over Ander’s face as a clear sign of his firm rejection. It made Ander’s chuckle though as he removed the tossed cloth from covering eyes back to his forehead.

“Are you tending to Mhairi and the Dwarf then, or am I just special?” Rolling his eyes, Izarre sighed and shook his head.

“Oghren cures everything that ails him with…well… _ale_ and Mhairi…” There was a pause as he looked away to stare back at the new set of armor. “She didn’t make it.”

“She didn’t? Oh…I see…I suppose that’s the risk we all took,” Anders frowned as he sat up, but the look in his eyes was distant. “Did anyone die when you had your Joining?” To this, the Commander nodded.

“Yes, one died from the Joining and the other died by the sword…”

“By the sword? Were there darkspawn crashing the party?”

“No, if you are conscripted and refuse the joining, you will be killed for cowardice.” Looking surprised, Anders stood up and returned the towel to its bowl.

“Are you serious? That’s…”

“It’s what it has to be. The Grey Wardens are a second chance, but also a death sentence…Though to be fair, most people here are because it’s their last chance to redeem themselves anyway. If not for my conscription, I would have likely died when my parents were killed. If not at the manor itself from Howe’s troops, I would have stupidly tried to take Howe on by myself and would have lost. I would have never met Alistair and…well. To most of us, this is the better route. Now come on, change your clothes and meet us back in the main hall. We have things to discuss.” Even though Anders was still uneasy about his current situation, he did look at his new wardrobe with some fascination and began to get dressed as Izarre left to return to the main hall once again.

Oghren had made a full recovery by drinking himself back to health and Varel was still playing the diplomat between the elderly woman and the solider. “Commander,” he said when he saw Izarre’s return. “Are you ready for us?” Before the Warden could answer, he was already being addressed for introductions.

“Warden-Commander,” the women in village attire began. “A pleasure to meet you. I am Mistress Woolsey, sent by the order of the First Warden at Weisshaupt. I am to act as treasurer of the arling of Amaranthine. He believed local men could not be trusted for this post.”

“One of those _local men_ is right here, Mistress Woolsey,” grumbled the Seneschal.

“I have every confidence in the Vigil’s loyalty in matter of arms. But gold corrupts even the most resolute soul.” Turning her attention back to the Commander, she continued. “Ser, the arling is on the brink of economic collapse. Trade must flow. Merchant caravans are being systematically attacked somewhere along the Pilgrim’s Path. It is the only route that can reliably provision an army, feed a city, and maintain civilization.”

“So, how do I deal with this?” Izarre asked after calmly holding his hand up to stop the berating for just a moment.

“In the city of Amaranthine, there is a trader, Mervis, whose caravans have been hit particularly hard. He may know where along the road the darkspawn, _or whatever they are_ , are striking.”

“That’s enough. I will look into the matter. Varel, who is this other man? Another recruit?”

“No, this is Ser Garevel, the new captain of the guard.”

“I have a matter to bring to your attention,” the armored man bowed. “But first things first, my predecessor, Captain Rullens, and much of the senior staff were inside the Keep proper at the time. How they met their fates is unknown. All we know is darkspawn swarmed the Keep. I’ve also talked with the dwarf Voldrik earlier. It’s his belief, and I concur, that they came from the Keep itself. The deep cellars go very deep indeed. Voldrick suspects the darkspawn found a hidden route into the Keep.

“So we have a direct line between us and the horde underground as well as talking darkspawn? Wonderful.”

“Talking?” the Captain asked a bit flabbergasted. “That is…disturbing, Commander. But all throughout the lands, we’ve heard rumors. Tales of new darkspawn…terrifying ones, forged out of nightmare and shadow. Something grave is afoot.”

“And how many soldiers actually survived the attack?”

“Barely any, truth be told. And none of the Wardens. But there are many soldiers still out patrolling the roads between here and Amaranthine. We can recover from this.”

“What of the other news?” the Commander asked as he folded his arms over his chest.

“Potentially urgent at that. The Orlesians…Wardens, I mean, began gathering information while they were here. The most promising lead they found was a wild tale a couple of hunters told. These hunters, Colbert and….well, the other one…claim to have stumbled across an entrance to the Deep Roads. Darkspawn all over the place, they said. And this was _before_ the fiends appeared throughout the whole arling. The Wardens were just about to send someone to track down Colbert.”

“So, you’re saying that they may have found a breeding ground?”

“These hunters, they are in Amaranthine probably with the refugees outside the gate if you go looking for them, Commander.”

 “If you are quite done,” the Seneschal butted in. “We have other business. Orlais sent a dozen Wardens to the Vigil to await your arrival. Nearly all died in the attack, but Kristoff is still in the field.” This at least peak Izarre’s interest of having another Warden already beyond the Joining to call upon.

“Where is he? Do you know?”

“The Orlesian Wardens were uneasy that the darkspawn weren’t going to ground with the Blight ended, so Kristoff was sent to track down some leads. A fortnight ago, he left in a bustle. As best we figure, he went to the city. It seems as if the darkspawn have found some _other_ purpose beyond the call of the Archdemon,” Varel shuddered at the thought.

“I’ll find him,” Izarre reassured the unhinged man and turned back to fetch his current followers. Oghren had come off the wine cask long enough to realize it was time to head out once again. As they were leaving, Anders finally joined them in his new outfit, still petting at the feathers upon his shoulders to smooth them down. Coming down the stairs back outside to the courtyard, they were stalled once again by a female guard at the bottom of the flight.

“Blimey, Commander of the Grey!” she exclaimed suddenly and caused the equally alarmed man to stop in his tracks.  “Please hold, I have some messages for you,” she mumbled as she held out a few sealed missives she had been apparently keeping safe for a while based on the state of the crinkled paper and bent corners. Opening them one at a time, Izarre brow creased as he read the requested favors before handed them to Anders.

“Am I the bloody secretary now?” the Healer grumbled and read them as well since they were in his possession, scoffing at a few before putting them away in his satchel.

“Also a while back, they caught a thief in the Vigil,” the female solider began to explain. “Took four Wardens to capture him. Gave one of the Wardens a black eye, he did! Half-joking, they said he might make a good recruit.” Raising his brows, the Commander looked interested now.

“Where is he then?”

“He’s in the dungeon, ser. That building over there,” she pointed out.

“Thank you. Remain on your watch.” With a shallow bow, Izarre turned to walk in that direction but stopped when Anders paused with his eyes fixated on a statue of Andraste.

“Look at that,” he whistled as he was joined by his commanding officer. “Was Andraste really that much of a looker? Don’t you think she would have been, I don’t know, a barbarian?”

“…It’s a statue. Why are you looking for realism? It’s just an icon.”

“Just wondering aloud. After all, Andraste did exist, didn’t she? What would she have thought of the Circle of Magi? Forcing mages to fight demons are be made Tranquil?” Considering Anders question seriously for a moment, the young Warden could only shrug.

“She’d probably be confused. How would you feel if you were thrust into a world where people did horrible deeds in your name whether you believe in them or not? Not just the Circle,” he commented. “Though it was my understanding that mages fight demons because they are plagued by them otherwise, aren’t they? Regardless of if they are part of the Circle or not? Isn’t the idea to train you with your own kind so you’re better equipped to fight them off?”

“Maker, you really didn’t grow up there, did you? Even as a mage yourself?” Anders sighed and looked back up at the statue. “No doubt you’re right about her being confused though. Seems to me that Andraste counseled men to seek their own path to the Maker, but the Chantry uses her words as a reason to collar us just for being who we are.”

“Perhaps, but we _are_ dangerous.”

“Sure, but we’re not _dragons_. We can think for ourselves. Usually.” Shaking off his anger, he reeled it back before making an attempt to keep things light. “Oh well. She’s still quite a looker, for a prophet. I’m just saying.” Still, he had already shown his pent-up frustration and bitterness to the Commander, who was not likely to forget that side of him anytime soon. After heading to the dungeon to check on the rowdy prisoner, they were stopped again by yet another guard.

“Ah, Commander! Good thing you’re here!” the male solider smiled as he stood in front of the locked cage. “This one’s been locked up three nights, now. Good men died while this one was protected in his cell.” Looking towards the cell’s bars, Izarre evaluated the dirty man that was locked up behind them. He had a strong jawline and messy dark hair that was pulled back to stay out of his face in tattered clothes seemingly either given to him by those in the Keep or picked up along the way like with most refugees in the area.

“Who is he?” the Warden asked.

“He won’t give a name. All I know is he was caught poking around the estate in the middle of the night. I’d say he was just a thief, but it took four Gray Wardens to capture him. You best be careful. Whoever he is, he’s no ordinary burglar, that’s for sure.” Keeping his eyes fixated on the man, Izarre stood a step closer with caution as if he were approaching a wild bear.

“Leave us. All of you,” he said without looking away. “That’s an order.”

“As you wish, Commander,” the guard smiled and turned to shuffle even Anders and Oghren back outside. Once the prison was cleared, Izarre unlocked the gate and stepped inside to square off.

“Well, if it isn’t the great hero, conqueror of the Blight and vanquisher of all evil,” the Prisoner said with a gruff, sarcastic tone. “Aren’t you supposed to be ten feet tall? With lightning bolts shooting out of your eyes?”

“I can’t do lightning yet,” the Commander replied. “So no need to be insulting.”

“Somehow I just thought my father’s murderer would be…more impressive.” Pacing back and forth in front of the disheveled man, the Warden put on a grin.

“Father? I’ve killed a lot of men, so you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“I am Nathaniel Howe!” the locked up man shouted. “My family owned these lands until you showed up. Do you even remember my father?” The pacing stopped as Izarre narrowed his eyes.

“Do you remember mine?” he snapped back. “Because yours was more than happy to slaughter my entire family!”

“That was war!” Nathaniel had to take a step back before he did something he would regret even more. “Look, I came here…I thought I was going to try to kill you. To lay a trap for you…but then I realized I just wanted to reclaim some of my family’s things. It’s all I have left.” The sentiment was enough to calm Izarre down as he also took a step away to reevaluate the situation.

“…Just how much do you even know about your father?”

“If you’re asking whether I knew what he was up to, the answer was no. I was squired in the Free Marches,” Nathaniel admitted as his aggression dropped because he didn’t find the Commander to be honestly all that intimidating once their tempers had cooled. “Look, I don’t know what happed with the Couslands. It sounds like it was horrible. The entire war was. Whatever my father did, however, shouldn’t harm my whole family. The Howes are pariahs now, those of us left.”

“ _Whatever he did_?” Izarre huffed.

“Well, you killed him, so now you also get to decide my fate. Ironic, isn’t it?” Shaking his head, the Commander thought to himself for a long enough time to at least make the Prisoner uncomfortable.

“…I understand we had some trouble capturing you.”

“Oh. Well, yes,” Nathanial admitted. “I am not without skills. My time aboard wasn’t spent chasing skirts and drinking wine.”

“What _skills_ are those, exactly?”

“…Hunting. Scouting. Poisons. Why? What do you care?” The grin that came across the Commander’s face only made his nerves even worse as the guard returned with Varel.

“I brought the Seneschal for you, Commander.”

“And I see you’ve spoken with our…guest. Quite a handful, isn’t he?” Varel commented. “Have you decided what’s to be done with him?”

“This is Nathaniel Howe, Arl Howe’s son. He came here to kill me, but then gave it up just to steal back some of his family’s heirlooms…”

“A Howe? It figures that they would turn up again. They are implacable enemies, Commander.”

“Indeed,” Izarre agreed with a smirk. “Which is why I am invoking the Right of Conscription.”

“You _what_?” Nathaniel yelled.

“I’m sorry, Commander…the Right of Conscription? On the prisoner?”

“No! Absolutely not! Hang me, first!”

“I don’t remember asking you,” Izarre taunted ruthlessly.

“…I can’t decide if this is a vote of confidence or punishment.”

“Both,” the Commander smiled. “Let us being the Joining!” Everyone returned to the main hall where the Joining cup was once again prepared as the last male Howe stood against his will as he waited for his turn.

“The moment of truth,” he gulped and took a drink of the darkspawn blood. In a matter of seconds, he hit the floor in shakes and quivers, but had survived the process.

“Take him to a room and get him rested and outfitted. Everyone, return to your quarters,” Izarre ordered. “At daybreak, we make for the city of Amaranthine.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Preloaded Dragon Age: Inquisition today! After this story is complete, the next work will be for Dragon Age II and the third story will be for Dragon Age Inquisition. Thank you for following along and reading :) Your comments have been very helpful and inspiring!
> 
> In case you're wondering what Izarre looks like, you can find my sketch of him and random in-game screenshots on my Tumblr page: http://stoletarts.tumblr.com/tagged/Dragon-Age-Origins


	3. How to Avoid Awkwardness When Running into Your Ex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer: A few lines of dialogue have been taken directly from the game or have been paraphrased from game dialogue. Anything recognizable as game dialogue is not mine, and I bow to the BioWare writing team.*

As Nathanial Howe awoke the next morning, he took a hold of his pounding forehead that was throbbing painfully enough to swear he had lost a drinking contest to a group of surface dwarves whose hammers were still banging away on steel anvils. “You’re finally awake.” As he stepped from the shadows of the bedroom, the Commander had managed to startle the otherwise stoic Rogue.

“So that wasn’t a dream after all, was it? I was actually taken into the Grey Wardens?” Moving the blanket away, he was also surprised to see himself in the nude with his original clothing nowhere to be found. “…Is this your doing as well? We didn’t….did we?” Izarre looked at the Howe flatly and rolled his eyes as he shook his head.

“You smelled like rotten fish from sitting in the dungeon for so long. I had a few servants clean you up and take your measurements for a new set of armor. We also have a few things to do around here first where I find myself in need of your personal assistance.”

“Oh? Like what?” Standing, the naked man stretched first before seeing his new set of leathers neatly stacked on a chest near the bed. “This is fine craftsmanship. I honestly thought you’d be vindictive enough to only hand me a few rat-chewed scraps with a blunt dagger and practice arrows.”

“…The thought crossed my mind,” Izarre smiled. “But I realized that you’re more useful to me alive. Besides, we still have the land to look over and reinforce. As someone who used to live here, I am counting on you to have some input on the current structure.” As Nathaniel put on his armor and adjusted the straps, his eyebrow raised at the statement.

“So, you’re saying you want me to give you a tour? Of my house? The one you seized and threw me in prison for coming to reclaim some of my own things?”

“That’s the gist of it. Come down when you are ready.” As the Commander walked away, the new Warden could only laugh dryly at the situation, but did as he was told. After walking into the main hall, he was taken aback by the collection of nobles who had come to swear fealty to new Arl. There, he witnessed those who had once pledged themselves to his father now make new vows to the person who had used magic to shatter his father’s body into unrecognizable pieces. Keeping his distance as to not be recognized, he decided instead to stare at the unsettling painting of his mother which was mounted on the far wall. Still, his eyes did wander to see the mingling Izarre acquire useful information about the area and old feuds which would cause problems later.

Presently, there was an argument brewing about the protecting the surrounding farmland rather than Amaranthine itself by the few remaining soldiers who were fortunate enough to be out in the fields instead of inside the Keep when the darkspawn had attacked. “The city has its walls,” the white-haired Noble said to stop the bickering. “But the people in the fields have only short fences to stop the livestock from running away. Keep the patrols up and issue a curfew for the city. If the darkspawn do attack again, we need them spotted on the approach to give us enough time to move the people to safety.” There were a few nods and a few frowns, depending on which side the other lords and ladies had picked, but none of them had the stones to voice any negative opinions about the decision if they had any. With the matter settled, Izarre excused himself to venture outside into the Keep’s courtyard which looked significantly less gloomy during the daytime. Down the steps and towards the well, something caught his attention in the corner of his eye to which he pulled a dagger out for and crept over slowly to see what it was. There was a rummaging sound off near a fence which he assumed was either a rat or a very small, stalking darkspawn.

“Meow.”

“…Is that…a cat?” he said out loud and used the blade he had readied to push away the overgrown grass to see a small orange kitten looking up at him. After putting the weapon away, he kneeled down to pick it up, looking confused.

“Oh!” cooed Anders as he promptly plunked the animal from his Commander. “Look at the cute little kitty!” The kitten meowed once again at the attention, seemingly unafraid of those who had found him. “There was a mouser in the tower named Mr. Wiggums. Only company I had when the Templars locked me up. Miss that beast a lot, sometimes. But I can’t keep a cat. We fight darkspawn for a living,” the Mage sulked as he gave the purring creature several scratches underneath its chin.

“What do you want to do with it, then?” Izarre asked as he had no idea what to do in this situation.

“I’m not sure,” the distracted Mage mumbled. “Seems cruel to just leave him…Well, I’ll keep him for just a while. Until I find somewhere safer. Is that okay with you, kitty? I’ll call you Ser Pounce-a-lot! You can stay in my pack since I have to carry all these papers anyway. Just for a little while, yes?”

“Are you really going to let him keep a cat around?” complained Nathaniel as he seemed unaffected by the cuteness of the orange fuzz ball.

“I keep you around, don’t I? At least the cat hasn’t tried to kill me yet.”

“Ha!” laughed Oghren. “Burned!” After a huff and an eye roll, the Howe’s attention was diverted as he spotted an elderly elf who was attempting to clean up some fallen stones from the pathways.

“Samuel?” he yelled and ran up to the man. “Groundskeeper Samuel? Is that you?” Turning away from his work, the elf looked a bit surprised.

“Who…? Maker’s breath, if it isn’t little Nate! I’d know that face anywhere!”

“Groundskeeper,” blushed the very grown-up Nathaniel at the nickname. “I’m overjoyed that you stayed on. Please, do you know how my brother died?”

“You had a brother as well?” Now curious as to just how many Howes were left alive who were possibly after his head, Izarre joined the conversation.

“And a sister, but where is she? I…was in the Free Marches.”

“Your brother died in the war, but Lady Delilah…Don’t you know? She isn’t dead, son, not that I know of. Last I heard, she married a storekeep in Amaranthine. Don’t know which one. Poor girl.”

“Did you hear that?” Nathaniel smiled as he turned to his Commander. “My sister’s alive!”

“…Wonderful,” Izarre replied though without nearly as much enthusiasm. “Why did you think she was dead?”

“I knew about my mother, and heard my brother might be dead. I suppose…I just assumed that Delilah was dead, too. Could we…ask around the shops when we get to the city?” There was a held in deep breath which took place as the request was considered.

“…We could take a look, yes.”

“Thank you! I would be interested to know just what happened to her.” Still, the Cousland slash Theirin mumbled as he resumed his original mission which led to the cellars. Outside the door, a guard was posted there looking rather nervous.

“Are you ready to head in, Commander?” she asked as he approached. “I don’t want these trapped darkspawn digging out.”

“Trapped darkspawn?” Nathaniel asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, right. Remember when I said I needed a guide through your home?” Izarre asked with a waved hand. “Well, specifically, I meant the down there. That mad dwarf with the bombs shook the foundation and there are pockets of the creatures stuck underneath us. I had them clear the rubble, but I hate circling parts unknown. We can’t afford to overlook the area.”

“…So you wish for me to lead you on a darkspawn hunt so what? You won’t get lost?”

“He had me doing the same thing in the Deep Roads. Lad had no sense of direction,” teased Oghren.

“Follow me then,” Nathaniel grumbled and headed down the stairs. The cellars were massive and extensive indeed, full of old statutes and artwork from the time which they were occupied by Alamarri. “Is that a marbari?” The hound was battered, covered in bruises, scratches, and caked with dirt and blood. She seemed exhausted and half-starved, shaking with nerves, but unable to react to the strangers.

“Anders,” Izarre called for the Mage’s assistance. “Can you do something?”

“Don’t look at me. I’m a cat person,” the Blond replied. “Oh, you mean the wounds? Ah, right. Hold on then.” While keeping his distance, a few healing spells were cast to stop any bleeding and help cleanse some of the infection causing the suffering hound to shake with fever and chills. Kneeling down, the Commander patted the mutt’s head and removed a tied scroll from its neck. He passed it back to Nathaniel as he scratched behind the pup’s ear. Unraveling the tattered parchment, the recipient suddenly became very intrigued.

“It’s from Adria! She was…She was like a mother to me. It says she’s trapped in the lower levels of the Keep. We _must_ save her!” he insisted and took to leading the party again, but stopped after a few meters. “Wait, something…wrong. There’s…this tingling. What is this?” he asked before noticing how everyone was also feeling the sensation, though Izarre had already armed himself for the ambush of Shrieks. “Holy Maker!” The sound of clinking daggers filled the room as the three new Wardens surprised themselves at how much more efficient they were in combat though the Commander didn’t seem nearly as impressed with himself and continued to walk to a seeming dead end with a statue of Andraste mounted against the wall.

“Did you see that?!” Oghren laughed as he put his axe away. “We were like _bam, bam_! And they were like, ‘ _Ahhh_!’”

“Yes, my abilities do seem to have…improved drastically against fighting these monsters,” the Rouge admitted as he pulled down the mounted torch to open a secret passageway.

“It’s like we can bloody read their thoughts or something. Like we’re equals, not victims,” Anders added. “Isn’t the right Ser Pounce-a-Lot?”

“Yes, well. Hopefully there won’t be any more Archdemons in our time,” Izarre muttered as he peeked down the hidden corridor. “You really don’t want to hear _those_ thoughts.” He continued to walk around, curious as to what was making those _other_ noises.

“Oh, thank the Maker! Please let us out!” yelled a man from a locked jail cell where several other servants had locked themselves in to  keep the darkspawn at bay.

“May I?” Nathaniel asked and was given the nod of approval.

“Quick, before more of those things come!” was yelled before making a run for it to safety.

“ _Things_?” Tilting his head, the Commander turned to see more men running up to them, but their flesh was rotted away and their clothes had been torn. “Oh…Ghouls. Lovely.”

“Ghouls? What are…Andraste’s mercy. No. No! Adria!  We have to help her! There must be some way…” But Nathaniel’s heart sank as he was given an empathic look by the younger man. Understanding the situation, the new daggers he had received were removed from his belt and gripped so tightly that his knuckles turned white. After composing himself, he slipped into the shadows and vanished from sight. As the woman staggered closer with an outstretched hand which barely had any skin left on it, she was stopped just out of reach of Izarre’s face as her head was severed from her body with two strong swings from the boy she had practically raised. As her decayed body collapsed, Nathaniel cried out as he began putting the rest of the poor souls out of their misery. The other members of the party only watched as the remaining Howe channeled his rage, rightfully so, until there were no more immediate threats left.

Once the culling was over, Izarre sent Oghren back to see that the hound was treated properly and for the guard to come back down with the builder dwarf in order to assess the damage the collapse had on the tunnels. It was disturbing to find out how they could go to the Deep Roads from where they were and an order was issued to clear out the rest of the fallen rocks until they could find a more permanent solution in sealing off the passages for good. No longer feeling needed, Nathaniel excused himself to wait outside until the plan to continue to Amaranthine was ready.

After finally arriving in the city, Izarre noticed that there were an abundance of refugees being held outside the gates due to a fear of smugglers taking over the area. After striking a deal with the Captain of the Guard to try to clean out the unsavory thieves, they pressed onward to find the lost Orlesian Warden. While walking around aimless in an effort to find the tavern, Anders spotted a young woman to which he was apparently well-aquatinted with. After speaking to her in private, he came back to Izarre’s side as giddy as a schoolboy. “We need to make a stop,” he grinned, nearly unable to contain himself.

“…We’re not stopping so you can run off and lift a skirt in a back alley,” the Commander assumed and turned to walk away, but his arm was grabbed by the Mage.

“What? No! Not that! I found it!”

“What it? Found _what_?” With a heavy sigh, Anders released his Leader to explain better.

“That was Namaya. She is…a friend. Last time I escaped from the tower, I asked her to look into some things. You see, during the Blight, the Templars moved their store of phylacteries to Amaranthine for safety and my phylactery is among them, she learned. The Templars thought I was here to take a ship, but that wasn’t the reason at all.”

“...Just how many times have you escaped the tower exactly?”

“I…I escaped from the tower seven times. After the last time, they put me in solitary confinement for a year.”

“A year?” Nathaniel asked, honestly a bit disturbed by that. “Maker.” Nodding to him, Anders continued.

“Eventually, I’m sure they would have branded me a maleficar, true or not, and executed me. The problem is that mages are tolerated. Barely. It’s like you need permission to be alive! There’s nothing a mage can do to prove himself. Everyone needs to be protected from you. The end.” With a strained sigh, he tried to shake away his anger once again. “All I want is a pretty companion, a decent meal, and the right to shoot lighting at fools. So long as the Templars have that sample of my blood, they can find me. I need to destroy it.”

“But you’re a Warden now,” Izarre tried to assure him. “You are no longer under Chantry rule.”

“But what’s to stop them from deciding mages in the Grey Wardens are apostates, too? Please, I just want to be sure they can’t find me again. Ever.” Making a face, the shorter of the two was also now considering that possibility. As an open mage himself, it was an unsettling thought.

“Then…we can stop to take a look since we’re already here.”

“Really?” A smile came across Anders’s face as he honestly wasn’t expecting to be agreed with. “I…I know we’re busy killing darkspawn and all. But the sooner we find this vial, the better I’ll feel. The warehouse is just around the next corner there behind those market stalls.” While heading in that direction, there came another distraction as Nathaniel’s attention was diverted after hearing a female voice call his name.

“Nathaniel!” she shouted loudly while waving her arms. Turning, the Rogue was rushed by an attractive brunette who hugged him tightly. “Nathaniel! I had feared the worst!”

“Delilah?” he questioned and took a step back to give his sister a once over. “Delilah! It is you. Look at you!” Taking it as a compliment, she twirled around for the brother she had not seen in over a decade, but it wasn’t something he had meant to praise her with. “Delilah, I know times must have been hard, but you can do better than this. Come on, gather some things and come back to the estate until we find somewhere else.”

“What?” she asked with a nervous laugh. “What are you…? Oh, Nathaniel! I’m not here out of desperation! I married my husband, Albert, because I adore him!” Flabbergasted, the elder sibling made a twisted face. “He’s so much better than that stuck-up Cousland boy Father kept trying to set me up with,” she continued and made the exact same kind of face as she considered close-call engagement. It was then when Izarre had finally recognized her as well.

“Well, I didn’t want to marry you, either,” he said matter-of-factly with a less than amused tone his voice as Anders and Oghren both smirked.

“If only you were so lucky to marry my sister!” Nathaniel snorted.

“I’m married to the King! Why would I want to marry your sister?”

“You mean…you’re the new _Queen_ of Ferelden?” Delilah snorted as well in laughter. “ _That_ …explains so much.”

“ _Prince-Consort_ ,” she was corrected. “And you didn’t complain those three days we were in bed together…”

“Stop! Stop! Enough,” Nathaniel yelled as he rubbed the bridge of his nose in a desperate attempt to wipe _that_ image from his mind.

“Listen, since you’re here, I just wanted to say I…I’m sorry about your family,” she continued after her brother’s interruption. “What my father did was…terrible. Your mother was always extremely kind to me, even if our engagement never solidified. What my father did was…terrible. Thank the Maker I’m finally away from his evil.”

“Father’s evil?” her brother asked as he sounded a bit taken back. “Isn’t that overstating things a little? He got caught up in politics…”

“You weren’t here,” she said to him. “You didn’t see what he did, Nathaniel. You want the culprit who destroyed our family? It was him, without question.” Looking to Izarre, the Rogue felt a sudden twinge of guilt.

“I had no idea…”

“Of course you did,” his sister spoke. “But you always worshipped father, right from when you were a little boy. Come, brother. Let us sit and catch up a bit, shall we?” Looking to his Commander, he smiled as he was given a nod to take his leave.

“We’ll come back for you after we visit the warehouse. Take your time.”

“That was very kind of you, you know that?” Ander commented to Izarre, who only shrugged in response.

“I understand the feeling. During the Blight, I thought I had lost my brother as well along with the rest of my family. When I found out he was still alive, words could not express my relief. “

“But didn’t Nathaniel admit how he was going to kill you? Are you sure it’s wise to be so…forgiving?”

“My father once said that hate will consume you into until there is nothing left. Nathaniel did not kill my family nor did his sister. Bitterness and envy are weapons that self-destruct. Take the former Queen, Anora. Her jealously killed both her husband and her father and now she is left with nothing. Do not fall into that trap, Anders. Vengeance should not hold dominion over you. ” Taking the words under consideration, the Mage continued to lead them around the alleyway to a seemingly abandoned building with a sealed door.

“Here it is, I think,” he said as he tried in vain to pull on the boards. “Damn, I could burn them...” As his hands lit on fire to do so, he was suddenly pushed out of the way.

“Step aside, junior,” Oghren huffed as he took one boards with both hands. After a loud growl, he had yanked the door completely off its hinges but Anders had already moved on to a second door on the side of the structure and opened it with ease.

“Oh, this one is unlocked…Sorry!” Peaking inside, Izarre and Dwarf soon joined him from their recently opened entrance. “No guards? Maybe they don’t want to draw attention to the cache? Could we be that lucky?”

“Not likely,” the Commander responded and went searching on his own until he found the Templar he had met earlier with Alistair and two others waiting for them in an empty corner.

“And here I almost believed that the infamous Anders wouldn’t take the bait,” she smirked with crooked sort of pleased with herself smile.

“Ah yes,” Anders laughed. “I suppose I should have known it to be you!” Rolling her dark eyes, she turned them to who was in charge.

“You made a poor choice with this one. Anders will never submit, not to us and not to you.”

“Who are you to question my judgment, Templar?” Izarre asked in return as he took a step forward to stare at her more directly. “I am Warden-Commander of Ferelden with the Right of Conscription. You have no authority here.”

“Spare me the titles,” she warned as she turned back to Anders. “I’ll make sure this _murderer_ is never a bother to anyone again.”

“What?” Anders exclaimed. “No, you can’t arrest me! King Alistair allowed it!”

“The Chantry’s authority supersedes the crown in this matter. You cannot hide within the Grey Wardens’ ranks.” As she moved in on the Mage, she was stepped between before being able to reach him.

“This isn’t a matter of the crown,” the Commander assured her with a threatening glare. “The Right of Conscription overrides all else. I do not report to the King and you can take that to the Divine! Make a move against one of my charges and you will be the one not able to hide. Leave now as this is your only warning.”

“Says the King’s _whore_ and yet another _mage_ ,” she sneered at him. “I do not know how you inspire such loyalty, Anders, but it will avail you naught. Now you come with us.” Drawing her weapon, Anders took a step back ready to flee, but was amazed to see both his two comrades also brand their own weapons. It did not take long before all three Templars were dead on the floor, even without his help. As the other two Wardens put their weapons away, Anders couldn’t help but to stare silently at the bodies.

“Oghren, go find the guards and report this unfortunate incident. Have a messenger send word to the Circle and to the castle that this sort of behavior will not be tolerated. I will not have Warden mages or any of those who have joined the Order attacked for previous crimes by those in authority. This is an outrage and an insult to us all.”

“Yes, Commander,” the Dwarf bowed and took his leave.

“…Thank you,” Anders finally said softly once they were alone. “You stood by me, and I appreciate that.”

“…I care not about your past. When you drank from the cup, you became a Grey Warden, do you understand? You are no longer some runaway Circle mage that should fear the Templers. If you are to be afraid of anyone, be afraid of me,” Izarre replied in near jest but took notice at how shaken up Anders seemed to be. “But more than that, we are…friends, aren’t we? I know that I wasn’t raised in the Circle, but I was there when it was taken over by demons. I saw the fear those mages had when they were told how the Templars had asked for the Right of Annulment. You…aren’t a bad person for being born the way you are,” he smiled. “You’re a bad person for an entirely different set of reasons.” It was a tease that even Anders could crack a smile at.

“…Are you flirting with me again?”

“…And there you go, proving my point. It’s not being a mage that makes you terrible; it’s your disillusions of grandeur. Come, let’s get back to Nathaniel and find out what happened to this Kristoff person before I meet any of your other _admirers_.”


	4. How to Mage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer: A few lines of dialogue have been taken directly from the game or have been paraphrased from game dialogue. Anything recognizable as game dialogue is not mine, and I bow to the BioWare writing team.*

Leaving the warehouse, Anders and Izarre returned to the market stalls to fetch Nathaniel from his sister. The Rogue stood there like a lost child waiting for his guardian to fetch him from the streets. As soon as he spotted white hair in the compacted crowd of refugees and merchants, he jogged up to catch up with his Commander.

“There you are,” he smiled towards the younger man. “You’ll never believe it! She seems _happy,_ but then she said Father deserved to die! I still can’t believe it!” Looking a bit dumbfounded, Izarre narrowed his eyes to repeat what he had been saying this entire time.

“…Your father _murdered_ my entire family because he was jealous. How many times do I have to tell you this?”

“I thought he had his reasons. It was a _war_ , for Andraste’s sake!”

“The only _war_ was against the darkspawn, Nathaniel! He came to our house that night saying he had troubles moving his army to meet the King and told us to send our troops ahead so he could actually move his army into our home and massacre everyone! If there was a civil war amongst the people of Ferelden, Loghain and your father started it only _after_ what occurred at Ostagar.” Frowning at the revelation, the eldest Howe stood there with his lips pressed together.

“…Before I went to the Free Marches, he was never...how could he change so much?”

“Do you really believe that someone wakes up one day and decides to betray his friends? You are naïve. That sort of rooted evil sits inside for a long time. He never was who you thought he was.”

“…I suppose not. Now please…let’s get back to our business. I need to think. Delilah told me where the inn is. We should head there to look for the missing Warden.” Agreeing, Izarre let him lead the way to the tavern where Oghren was already occupying one of the stools.  Seeing his company walk in, the Dwarf took his leave from the bar and met the other Wardens at the door.

“So eh, that Kristoff fellow was here alright. Got a key to his room and chatted it up with the hot set of bosoms over there,” he pointed at the hostess. “Says he was married and didn’t make any attempts. What a waste, right? At any rate, he had this map in his room with a place circled called uh…” It took a second for the Firebeard to remove the map from the inside of his chest piece. “I…uh…here it is,” he pointed with an armored finger. “Blackmarsh. Sounds fun.”

“We should do a few rounds in the city first,” Nathaniel added. “Delilah said there are a lot of scared people here. They are scared of the darkspawn, bandits, wildlife, you name it. The smuggling is out of control and there are even rumors of apostates.”

“More than us?” Anders quipped with annoyance.

“…All I’m suggesting is that we take our time and visit the Chantry. If there are merchants we can help, it would make our Order look a lot better and bring in more confidence from the local considering the only Grey Wardens left to fight the recent surge of darkspawn are only the four of us.”

“There were just two of us last time,” Izarre laughed bitterly as he shook his head. “Alright, you make a valid point. Let’s split up then. Nathaniel, take Anders with you to search for the smugglers and Oghren and I will head to the Chantry. We will meet back here at sunset to rest for the night.” Agreeing, the pairs split off in an effort to figure out what was making the city so uneasy. At the Chantry, Izarre ran into Wynne, who was on leave from the court to attend a mage gathering. He explained to her what had happened with the Templars in regards to Anders to which she made a disappointed, but unsurprised face.  In return, she told him of her trip and asked to find another missing mage who would be needed at the meeting as well before taking her leave.  Meanwhile, Anders, Nathaniel, and Ser Pounce-a-Lot visited the shadier places as they looked for a way to breach the smugglers’ hideout.

It didn’t take to find the entryway and clear the bandits out. Afterwards, Nathaniel helped himself to their supplies, pocketing a custom lockpicking set as well as a few specialized bundles of arrows before reporting it to the guards. He also met up with the hunters who had found the darkspawn tunnel and handed their map over for Anders to carry. Back at the tavern, the two sat down over a few pints of ale as they were finally allowed to relax. After discussing some new ideas and strategies as how to proceed into Blackmarsh, Nathaniel decide it was a good enough time as any to bring up a very obvious issue that would only get worse if allowed to carry on. “You should stop, you know. Before things turn ugly.”

“I’ve only had one pint,” Anders laughed. “Two isn’t going to kill me.”

“Not that. Your behavior, I mean, around the Commander.” Raising an eyebrow, the Blond looked confused.

“My behavior? But I haven’t done anything. Those Templars came after us and…”

“Your flirting, Anders. You may try to laugh it off as a joke, but it’s a more than a bit obvious that you’re actually interested in him. Your eyes, they _linger_.” The raised mug rested a moment on the Mage’s bottom lip before it was turned to be drank from.

“No, it’s not that,” Anders’ said in a slightly defensive tone as he put the mug down on the old, worn wooden table. “It’s just that he’s a mage like me…but more like you. I mean, he’s a mage that didn’t grow up in the Circle and fights like he’s been trained by the Crows. I’m just…curious, that’s all. About his magic.”

“It’s not his _magic_ you’ve been staring at.” Ander let out a sharp laugh at Nathaniel’s prodding and sarcasm.

“…Alright, fair enough, but it’s alright to _look_ , isn’t it? Granted he’s a bit on the short and pretty side, but that adds to the charm. Who would guess that some tiny, cute thing would have absolutely no fear of anyone or anything? When that Templars came back to take me in, he told them to shove off and to complain to the Divine herself if they had a problem with it. The damsel-in-distress always falls for the handsome prince, right? It’s natural.”

“You’re no damsel, Anders,” Nathaniel shook his head. “And you seem to only _cause_ distress. He may be a prince, but he’s a prince married to our King. Happily or so I’m told. Delilah says that his Majesty brags about the Commander every chance he gets.”

“Hm, yes,” Anders grumbled in reply. “When the King stopped by the Keep after the darkspawn attacked, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.” There was a noticeably pout there as he thought about it.

“And you’re no King. I’m only telling you this for your own good.

“It’s just for fun, old boy. I know nothing will happen but...”

“But nothing. You’re right where you are. _Nothing_ will happen .”

“You don’t have to be so bloody…Oh. Commander. Hello,” Anders grumbled as he forced his expression to change after the other two Wardens came in to join them.  Without a word, Izarre sat down next to him and promptly stole the man’s drink to finish it off. Oghren did the same to Nathaniel, but the Rogue found it less appealing than Anders did when he drink was stolen, especially after the Dwarf belched loudly when it was empty. “Long day?”

“I dislike hunting down other mages,” Izarre muttered before sighing. “But they are for the most part crazed by the time we find them. Already using blood magic and possessed by a demon. It’s a mercy killing in the end, isn’t it? You’re not killing the mage, but the demon that has stolen their body and using it to harm others.”

“The Templars would have everyone think we are all walking demons though,” Anders huffed. “Though…yes, if a mage is possessed, there isn’t anything left by the demon.” To that, Izarre made a face as he looked through the other mugs to see if there was anything to drink left.

“I’ll be damned if a demon takes me. I’ll kill that son of a bitch first. Bah, I’m heading to a room. We leave at sunrise. Do what you wish, but keep that in mind.”

“We have two rooms ready, Commander,” Nathaniel said. “Shall we pair off?”

“Oh, right. Oghren gets his own room and you two can pull cots to stay with me.”

“Why does he get his own?” Nathaniel asked with a raised eyebrow. “Because you’ve known him longer?”

“…Do _you_ want to share a room with him?” To that, everyone looked to the still belching Warden as he made his way back to flirt with whoever would have him.

“…Point taken. Have a good rest.” As Izarre got up to leave, he turned to Anders with a smile that forced the Mage’s heart to skip a beat. “Could you join me?” Nathaniel’s jaw nearly dropped and Anders quickly got up to follow, but not before giving a smirk to his surprised friend.

“Yes! Of course! Don’t wait up, Nathaniel!” he replied and quickly chased after the white ponytail as it went up the stairs and into one of the back rooms. Once inside, Izarre took a seat on the bed and Anders began to undress as fast as he could.

“…Why are you stripping down?” Izarre asked with a disapproving frown. “I need to ask you for a favor…”

“A…favor?” Bewildered, Anders stopped short of removing his pants entirely and left them undone with his boots off and his overcoat hanging off a bent nail on the wall. “What do you mean a favor?” Looking away, the shorter of the two stood with a painful blush across his cheeks.

“I need you…to teach me how to use magic.” Anders’ expression suddenly fell flat and he put a hand to his forehead.

“You mean, you asked me up here to teach you…how to mage? That’s it?”

“Well, yes. Why else would I call you away from the others? Magic can be dangerous, especially since I do not know how to use it properly. You grew up in the Circle, something you don’t enjoy talking about, and no one else would understand or worse, find me unfit to lead if they knew I didn’t have control over my powers. We are…friends…so I hoped that at least you wouldn’t…laugh.”

“..You are worried the others would lose their respect for you then?” To this, the Commander nodded as his green eyes lingered on the stained floor.

“..If you do not wish to teach me or go back to the Keep, I would understand, but I hope to learn from you. I cannot do much and I fear in order to defeat this threat, I will need to do more. A lot more…so, please do not leave and teach me instead.” Even though Anders was standing there half in the buff with a quickly deflating _mood_ , he couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for the Commander, even if there was a huge misunderstanding on his end. Still, his feelings stirred whether he wanted them to or not.

“…No, I understand,” he sighed and took a seat on the larger of the two beds in the room. “You didn’t grow up in the Circle, so you never had proper training. Surely, your family didn’t have any other apostates running around either.” Sitting down next to him, Izarre shook his head.

“I am…adopted, if you did not know. The Teryn of Highever was not my true father, but does that mean you’ll help me?” Looking over, Anders melted a little at the look he was being given and nodded with a grin.

“Of course! Now I’ve already seen a bit of your magic. You specialize in frost, which is your default state. Most mages have specialties. For example, I can heal things. While I can do a bit of destruction magic as well including frost and fire, my go-to, as it were, is always healing and protection. I’ve noticed that when you need your magic, it comes in the form of weapons…”

“Ah, I can also do ice bubbles.”

“…Ice bubbles?” Nodding, Izarre held out his hand to create a frozen glass orb to explain what he meant. While it served no purpose, it was pretty to look at. “Oh, that’s just adorable, but we can use that to teach you better focus. Attempt to retract that magic back into yourself.” With his hand still extended, the Commander gave it a try, but after a few frustrating seconds, the orb exploded into snow instead. “…And I’m glad that didn’t turn into ice shrapnel or I’d be missing my eyes right about now. So, practice that in your downtime. You’re trying to force it back in, but it’s a simple matter of releasing your hold on it and it should absorb back to the source. Try to imagine a sponge full of water. If you squeeze it, water comes out, yes? But if you release it, then the sponge will soak the water back up.” The younger Warden’s face lit up as he realized what Anders meant, quickly making a new orb but this time, rather than focusing, he relaxed himself and the orb dissipated into nothing. “…Wow, that was fast. You’re a clever one, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” Izarre smiled as he felt pretty good about himself. “You can return now if you wish to share more drinks downstairs. I will…remain here and practice. You have been a great help. Thank you, Anders.”

“Well, I’m already nearly down to my smallclothes, so I might as well stay and watch at least…if you don’t mind?” Shaking his head, the magical novice continued to clench and flex his fingers to summon his element and released it without blowing anything up.  With his pants still on, the other Mage decided to curl up in the bed he was already on, eventually falling asleep being more tired than he believed. Waking up, he saw the sun shining through the window and Izarre standing near it with his hair down, leaning against the glass to peer out into the world.

There were the sounds of people from the tavern downstairs moving around, the smell of meat grilling from the kitchen, and shuffling from the streets as shops began to open. Underneath the old blanket, Anders felt a contentment he had never really known before. He was no longer in the tower and no one was chasing after him.  It was a nice warm feeling that even came with a strong arm curled up around his body and gentle breathing on the back of his neck.

“…Nathaniel,” he groaned as he came back into the reality of things. “Get off me already.”

“…Ten more minutes, love. I paid for the entire hour…”

“NATHANIEL!” With a push, the Mage knocked the other man to the floor.

“Hm? What? Anders? Maker, why are you yelling? It’s barely morning…” As the two bickered, Izarre smiled in amusement as he pulled his hair up.

“Get dressed, the both of you. We head out in an hour.” After armoring up and fetching Oghren from sleeping in the middle of the bar’s floor surrounded by empty bottles and mugs, the group set out to Blackmarsh. It was a dismal place, covered in swamp gases, dead trees, and barren strips of broken land. Coming to the entrance of it, there was even a rickety old sign which read: _Beware! The Blackmarsh is haunted!_

“They say this marsh was once inhabited, until one day everyone disappeared,” Nathaniel smiled at the idea. “My father used to tell me stories about the Blackmarsh when I was young. He said evil magic killed everyone here. This was just before the rebellion; a great mystery at the time. They never found out why happened here. Once the monsters appeared, the marsh was abandoned.”

“Everyone always blames evil magic for every single problem,” snorted Anders with his arms crossed. “Though the Veil is thin here…Perhaps something came through…”

“They never found out _what_ happened here. Once the monsters appeared, the marsh was abandoned. It may sound silly, but I used to dream of coming to the Blackmarsh and setting things right. Little boy dreams.”

“You’re here now, aren’t you?” Izarre asked.

“So I am. If someone had told me I’d end up here, I would have laughed at them, but times change. When I was in Kirkwall, I thought I would return to Ferelden and take command of my father’s garrison. Now here I am, a Grey Warden and fighting both darkspawn and demons! Interesting, isn’t it?”

“Stick around, Howe. It happens all the time.”

“Ha! And the fun never ends, I suppose? Good to know. Anyway, the haunted marsh awaits. Shall I scout ahead?”

“No, we should stick together,” the Commander shook his head. “It’s fog heavy and if the Veil is thin. I rather not lose you to an illusion or an ambush.  Stay close everyone.  Anders, could you light the way?”

“Ah, right. That’s me, a glorified lamppost.” There was a bit more sighing before the staff was illuminated to pierce the darkness ahead. There were already blighted wolves in the area which were caught off-guard by the bright magical glow since it pulled them from the safety of the shadows. Up a stone-carved flight of stairs, they finally saw one of the barriers created by the Fade being torn apart as Anders predicted. Putting a hand out, Izarre attempted to touch it, but had it grabbed before his fingers could reach.  “Don’t. It may suck you in or worse. We need to find out whom or what did this to reverse the damage.”

“Can we even do that?” Oghren asked. “Can you just…put a cork in it like a leaky barrel?” Making a face, Anders frowned and shook his head.

“We have to find what created it first, but I doubt the marsh will ever be healed entirely. We can at least try to stop whatever is pouring out though.” Looking to the Anders, Izarre retracted his hand and pulled away from the grasp to take lead once again.

“If the darkspawn want whatever is here, we either have to find it first…or kill them and take it for ourselves. Come, let’s find an alternative route to…wherever this is leading to.” Continuing through the broken village, there were notices posted to warn people about the town and its Baroness leader. Just outside the large, ancient manor that was seated in the middle of the village, they stumbled across the body of a recently slain darkspawn. Kneeling down, Nathaniel attempted to determine how old the kill was.

“By the looks of the tracks and color of the blood, I’d say it wasn’t too long ago. A few days maybe? Tracks lead in this direction,” he pointed closer to the closed off gates in the distance. Izarre felt uneasy about where they were headed, but nodded as he continued to follow the trail, but between the Veil tears and stone walls, it felt being in a maze as he was sure they were being hunted by unseen forces lurking and waiting for them to be cornered. His suspicions were founded after being attacked by a small group of giant spiders. From one of their bellies, Izarre managed to salvage a rocking horse toy which they had either eaten from the trash or there was a child playing with it when they were attacked.

Oghren was the one who took it and cleaned it off with an old rag. “A baby’s plaything,” he frowned as he looked at it with a mixture of anger and sadness. “My lad is just about the age to play with this…which means whatever killed everyone here also took the  life of the poor body who used to own it. Do you mind if I…keep it, Commander?” Before he was answered, he had already tucked the toy away into his pack as if not wanting to think about it anymore.

“There’s a tent up ahead,” Nathaniel soon pointed out in the distance. “Might have been Kristoff’s camp, but look at how the dust’s been settled.  It hasn’t been used for days, same time around the dead darkspawn. More tracks lead up that hill.” After reaching the hill’s peak, Izarre slowed as he began to see fleshy pods here and there along the walls. His skin crawled as the tainted blood in his system began to burn, an effect everyone else began to experience  as well when a pod suddenly spurted open. It covered his face with slimy bits of blood and gore and from the ooze crawled a fat, bug-like creation. The horror growled at the Wardens first before it shrieked out a warning cry, alerting the other skittering creatures to emerge from their capsules as well. Stabbing the first one in its mandibles, Izarre jumped back to a more defendable position.

“Take them out!” As ordered, Nathaniel removed his bow from holding and began to use the arrows he had stolen from the smuggler’s to stop the insects further down while Oghren took his axe to the pods themselves, killing the spawning monsters before they could make it out of their meaty eggs. Anders stood next to Izarre while casting massive walls of light and fire to both blind and burn the attackers before they could get too close. Any that were dazed were immediately sliced apart by the Commander’s manifested double-sided ice blades. When the area was clear, there were curled up scarab-like shells remaining on the ground.

“Why would we suddenly be seeing new forms of darkspawn?” Anders asked. “This isn’t even a Blight.” Kicking over one of the dead things, Izarre noticed something glinting in the light and ran down to see what it was. His companions followed him only to stop and take notice of the dead Grey Warden there. As the party gathered, their skin began to creep once again as it they were surrounded, caught in a trap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Was caught up in a bit of Dragon Age Inquisition and taking notes on how to make everything fit in these stories. Pretty interesting things ahead!


	5. Why You Shouldn't Trust Your Mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer: A few lines of dialogue have been taken directly from the game or have been paraphrased from game dialogue. Anything recognizable as game dialogue is not mine, and I bow to the BioWare writing team.*

“Yes, that is your Grey Warden.” The raspy voice came from behind a cluster of typical darkspawn as a large, pale Genlock pushed its way to the forefront while focusing on Izarre specifically. “The Mother told it to me that if he was lured to this place, and slain, that in time you would come.”

“All this for us?” Anders mocked as he stood by his leader’s side. “How sweet.”

“We’ve got ourselves an admirer,” Oghren snorted as he moved to stand by his friends as well with Nathaniel close behind. “An ugly one.”

“And the Mother, she was right. The Mother is always right.”

“Who is this _Mother_?” asked the Commander as he took another step forward, having to strain his neck to look up at the painted-faced monster imposing over him.

“The Mother is she that sent me, she that wished you to come. To here, this place. I, here before you, is the First, and I am bringing to you a message.”

“At least, you’re not offering speech lessons!” joked the Blond and elbowed his Rogue partner to laugh along only to be stared at. “You get it, right? Because of how it talks?”

“Ugh…Quiet,” Nathaniel shushed instead.

“The Mother, she is not permitting you to further _his_ plan, whether this you know or not. She is sending you a gift.” Holding out its hand, a green orb floated above an armored palm. The light was dim, at first, but rapidly become more and more intense as the air vacuumed around it. Both mages cries out as their energies began to rip from their bodies, while Nathaniel and Oghren felt it as if their souls were being sucked dry with an overwhelming sensation of flesh being torn from bones. In a flash, the green glow turned to a burning white, blinding darkspawn and Wardens alike.

When the pain subsided, Izarre instantly realized where they were. The air was heavy and made his nostrils tingle with every breath. His eyes attempted to focus, but the thick fog only revealed what it wanted him to see. The stone floor under their feet was twisted, his body felt as if it could float away, yet sink into the ground at any moment, and the quietness was unnaturally void of any sound. This was the Fade, but not of his own making. No, this was someone else’s nightmare. Anders seemed to realize it as well and pushed himself to stand while gaining his bearings, however he was genuinely surprised to see the Howe and the Dwarf there. “You two actually made it to the Fade? What the bloody hell did we get hit with?” Turning around, the younger of the two mages stared at the stunned Genlock responsible for all of this.

“No!” It cried out after managing to stand while looking bewildered. “We have come to the Fade as well? It cannot be this!”

“What have you done to us?!” Izarre yelled more furious than concerned.

“This was not as she said! I am betrayed!”

“Ha!” Oghren laughed. “Could never trust my mother either.”

“Now I am being trapped in the Fade with you! Ah, I am the fool!”

“Someone’s expendable,” hummed Anders.

“No!” Stomping around, it continued to bellyache. “I am the First! I am not being _expendable_! Both the Grey Warden and the Mother shall be learning this! I will be leaving you to the Children. I will be finding my own path back into the world! Back to the Mother!” With that, it ran off into the abyss as more of the insect-like creatures hatched from emerging egg pods. Pacing in pure rage, an echoing battle cry was roared as Izarre punched the ground with both fists. As the new breed of crawlers closed in, everything underneath the Warden’s feet froze over. Instantly, the bugs and their pods were immobilized. A second punch to the ice forced them to shatter into tiny, white bits of vanishing crystal. As if they had passed the first phase of a gauntlet, the ghostly fog crept back to reveal several pathways ahead, but the spell had taken its toll. Taking a shaky step, Izarre attempted to walk, but fell to a knee where he struggled to breathe.

With a patient sigh, Anders kneeled down close by to put a cupped, gold-glowing hand to the pink, parted lips. Soft, yellow swirls were breathed in by the young man, slowing the wheezing down. “You can’t do that sort of magic without knowing how to control your output,” the more experienced Healer explained. “The Fade will quickly drain you if you aren’t careful. It’s the price paid by mages who find newfound strength here. Remember your true limits.”

“…Thank you,” Izarre said as he steadied himself while looking to Anders as a fledgling student would look to a wise tutor, but his attention was taken away when he heard a familiar screech overhead. On a branch of a twisted dead tree, a large, red bird called out to him a second time before taking off down one of the available paths. Narrowing his eyes and with his stamina returned, he took off running after it. Anders seemed to see…something…as well. A glint of light, perhaps? The fluttering of long robes in the wind? Whatever it was, neither of the other two Wardens reacted until their leader ran away since they hadn’t seen or heard anything else.

“Wait!” Nathaniel called out. “Balls! Come on! Move those short legs of yours!” Stopping at another crossroads, the bird overheard landed on top of a new branch with its gaze fixated on a pair of Desire demons channeling their energies at a focusing pillar similar to what Izarre saw in the Circle tower. With the rest of his party finally catching up to him, he pointed to their targets.

“We need to kill those,” he said without much explaining. “Ready?”

“Ready? We can’t just…! Oy!”  But Nathaniel’s warning came too late as Izarre had already begun his charge. Naturally, Oghren was happy to follow and gained the lead with his broad-axe in hand. The first strike landed between the plump, lavender bosoms of the first demon as if he had aimed there intentionally to miss striking anywhere else. Anders had attempted to attack the other, but she vanished in a puff of black smoke only to reemerge from behind with a hand on his lower back and the other gently caressing under his chin.

“You want,” she cooed into his ear. “So badly do you want, yet cannot have. Do you truly wish for a princess?” There was a pause as her gold eyes closed and her hand slid from his face down his chest into his robes. “Or yet, a prince?” spoke in a more masculine voice as the body gripping the Mage warped to display a different gender. There was a stiffness now which rubbed against Anders’ backside as the pillow-like breasts retreated to a favor a flat, yet firm chest. When it pulled away to turn the Mage to face it, a sword came through its belly. The tip of the blade barely missed the mildly-intrigued Warden as his Commander ran it through. Leaning back against its killer, the now male form of Desire smiled. “Unobtainable. Hopeless. I could have helped you.” As the entity faded away, Izarre seemed puzzled. 

“What was that about?” he asked as Anders adjusted his practically opened coat.

“I don’t know, really. Damn thing tried to seduce me with thoughts on cute cats and Templars in their skivvies, I think. Stopped caring after the cats though,” he shrugged making sure to tuck himself away in more intimate places before a glint in the trees above beamed like a ray of sunshine piercing through leaves directly into his eyes. “What the bloody hells _is_ that thing?” Looking surprised, Izarre turned to Anders in bewilderment.

“You can see it? The bird?”

“Are you seeing a bird? Really?” Looking up a second time, his eyes were only burned again. “No…I see…light. There as well,” he pointed in the distance. And there, there….and there…?”

“They must be trail markers then,” Izarre surmised even if he didn’t see them himself. “Take the lead then. I trust you.”

“You…trust me? Why?”

“Don’t be stupid. You’re one of us and the bird seems to agree.” 

“…So you trust that some mage seeing _sparkles_ and a bird, which only _you_ can see by the way, will lead us somewhere other than to our deaths?” wearily asked Nathaniel, but accompanied them just the same. “Oh, look. More demons. Why am I not surprised?” Indeed, there were more forms of Desire, as well as Rage, protecting the remaining focusing pillars. When the final pedestal was dispelled, the red animal jubilated before flying off into the fog. As its wings beat against the clouds, a new path emerged and the haze lifted to reveal a hidden town in the distance. “So this is what the Blackmarsh used to look like then? All those people…Do you believe they are here as well?” Izarre shrugged, fixated instead on one of those missing residents sitting by the shore who spoke without moving at all as if her voice was trapped within a living statue.

“No! Please!” she screamed with red tears leaking from unblinking eyes. “My lady! Have mercy! No! No!” The shrill voice echoed as the woman exploded into a massive geyser of blood only to reform and repeat her torturous wailing seconds later.

“Walking around in a magical dream village,” Oghren grumbled as he shook his head. “I’ve had enough of this touchy-feely head-trip.” Upon closing in on the massive, crumbling wall surrounding the hamlet, they spotted yet another young woman praying at a worn headstone, but the bird leading the Wardens through the Fade stopped to perch nearby as if ready to attack.

“Something…is wrong with her face,” Izarre whispered to Anders, but the Mage looked again.

“She’s not your type then? Fair enough.”

“No, it’s…shattered. Distorted. Broken.”

“Broken? I don’t see any injuries.”

“You,” she interrupted politely. “You’re not a spirit like everyone else. How did you get here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Izarre muttered as he kept his distance and radiated distrust with his hand locked around Anders’ forearm to keep his friend close.

“This is where my grandfather’s ashes are buried. I come to visit him often. He was the last person to stay in Blackmarsh. Once he passed, there was nobody left in the village who remembered.” Lowering her head, she looked as if she were about to weep to everyone else, but her appearance remained twisted and warped with black swirls in Izarre’s eyes.

“Remembered what exactly?” Nathaniel asked as he lowered his defenses to offer a sympathetic ear.

“Remembered what happened to the village, of course. It was full of people, once.” There was an expression of anger and grief as she continued to speak. “Then that evil woman came and changed everything!  She…Oh no! They’ve come back again! Quick, hide in the crypt!” Upon hearing the snapping of bones, Izarre turned to see corpses rise from the gloom with weapons in hand. Putting his bow away, Nathaniel opted to use daggers at close-range to fight much more like his deceased father. Ignoring the enemies entirely, the younger Mage released his hold on Anders and left his group, disappearing into the open gravesite. Anders’ fire thoroughly disintegrated the rotting zombies and he hurried to catch up. While he didn’t know exactly where his Commander had run off to, it was easy to follow the remains of other risen bodies and frost blasts along the walls.

“Tell me who you are!” Izarre’s voice echoed from a room. “Tell me _what_ you are! Why don’t you have a face?!”

“To think; my entire existence, I have sought a mortal mage to possess, and now one walks right into my lair.” Frowning, the Warden took a step back with his family’s sword tightly gripped.

“...Possess? You’re a demon then? Is that why I cannot see your facade? But Anders is also a mage, so why…?” The screeching of the red hawk which had also tagged along interrupted his train of thought.

“Quiet, Spirit!” the demon yelled at it. “You cannot save him!”

“Spirit?” Looking even more baffled, the Commander turned to Anders for confirmation. “Are spirits large, annoying birds?” Having no idea, Anders replied with a quick shoulder bop.

“…We should probably kill the demon and worry about how to get out of this place first.” Having a difficult time finding an argument against such logic, Izarre gripped his weapon even tighter and took a defensive stance in preparation for the demon’s attack, but five arrows zipped past his ears. Each punctured a vital part of the distorted demon’s midsection, throat, and lastly, one into the forehead as the visage was dropped entirely to reveal the Shade underneath.

“You two _really_ need to stop leaving us behind,” Nathaniel scolded with a disapproving tone. 

“..Apologies,” Izarre stammered, still surprised at how accurate the shots were. Overhead, the stalking animal seemed to flap its wings in approval and flew off again to the center area of the crypt before turning into a newly created tunnel. At the end was a partially opened doorway which led to the gates of the phantasmal town.

“Halt!” a guard called out to the approaching Wardens. “Who enters the Blackmarsh?”

“Is this…still considered the Blackmarsh?” Howe asked with a cocked eyebrow.  The guard seemed to be surprised at the question and racked his mind for an answer.

“I…I don’t know. We’ve been here so long, at _her_ mercy. I almost forget what it was like, before. Ah, but wait! There is a spirit that’s come to free us. Perhaps you could help him? If only that were possible…” Izarre made a face at the mention and again turned to Anders for clarification.

“Ah, right,” the Blond sputtered. “Spirits are…what demons used to be…or something. We should probably see what it’s doing here.”

“The only spirits I care about only come in a bottle,” Oghren grumbled and readied his axe for any sort of magical treachery. Further in was an angry mob shouting at the massive double-gates of the estate safe within. While their voices protested their confinement, there was a certain warrior who stood out from the rest. In shimmering, translucent armor, a spirit of Justice took charge of the outcry.

“The mansion will not protect you, fiend! Come out and face your crime!”

“The witch hides!” yelled a battle-ready maiden. “Break down the door!”

“Be cautious, my friends,” Justice turned to warn his flock. “The Baroness has power within her lair, and she well knows it. We rush in at our peril.” Pushing past the protestors, Izarre closed in on Justice, yet maintained a respectful distance. “And who comes now? More minions of the Baroness? Or yet more helpless souls she has tormented?” Taking a step back, the Commander frowned.

“Do I look like a helpless soul?” he grunted in offence.

“No, that you do not,” the Spirit spoke with some degree of apology. “I am Justice. I have watched this place and seethed at the wrongs visited on these poor folk, and now I seek to aid them.”

“Once, we lived in the real world,” a weary mother spoke. “And the Baroness ruled over us. She took our children and used their blood to work dark and evil magic.” As her eyes filled with water, another took over telling the story.

“And when we burned down her mansion, she cast one final spell that brought our spirits here. We have been trapped ever since, still under her rule.”

“This _Spirit_ knows the Fade,” Nathaniel whispered to his leader. “If we help him, he might help us in return.”

“But I think that since the Baroness trapped these people here, that’s she our best chance of getting out,” Anders rebutted.

“We need to find a way of the Fade,” Izarre agreed with them both while looking new entity in front of him over.

“Ah,” Justice responded with patience in his voice. “I see. You come from the realm of mortals, as these fine people once did. Was it the Baroness who brought you here, as well?”

“No, it was darkspawn…”

“Then the injustice of your own situation underscores why these people must be avenged. These men and women are dead, yet their spirits remain trapped by the vanity of this sorceress.” This was not the answer the Warden wanted to hear and he frowned while folding his arms over his chest. “I do not know how to cross the Veil back into your world. Should you aid us now, however, I promise that I will help you in your search.” Looking around, Izarre took in his options. There were people here who had been trapped longer than most books cared to remember and it tugged a bit on his heartstrings, something he was sure to be Alistair’s influence.

“Fine, fine. We’ll help you,” he caved and swore he heard Justice smirking underneath his helmet.

“Then we have the numbers to challenge the baroness directly! You have the heart of a true and righteous king!”

“Ooh!” Oghren also grinned deviously. “A direct challenge! I like the sound of that. Less talk, more killing!”

“But they _just_ said she’s an evil, powerful witch! Do we really _want_ to antagonize her?” whined Anders before his eyes fixed on his attractive, budding new Apprentice.

“We could defeat her and make her use her magic to help us,” Izarre easily wooed him over with a simple scratch to a rough cheek. Shaking off the shiver in his spine, reluctance towards the new plan was replaced with a more enthusiastic grin.

“Hmm. Now there’s a thought…all right. You’ve convinced me.”

“Why am I not surprised?” eye-rolled Nathaniel as he readied his bow.

“My intention is to storm the gate,” Justice cut the Warden’s dialogs short. “Are you ready?” Izarre nodded at the question and the Spirit clenched his fist. “Good people, we take the battle directly to the Witch! For too long have her crimes gone unpunished! Now is the time to reclaim your freedom!” Impressively, Justice kicked the barred gates open before leading the charge where the Baroness stood on her balcony.

“My, my,” she hissed with a smirk across her moistened ruby lips. “All that shouting outside and you’ve finally decided to barge in? Without even a proper invitation?”

“Foul Sorceress! You will release these poor folk and submit yourself to justice!”

“ _Justice_? Is that what you’re calling it? What of their punishment, burning my home to the ground and me within it?”

“Because you were stealing our children!” a guard protested. “Using their blood to feed your vanity!”

“As was my due! You lived on my land, I, your rightful ruler! Your blood was mine just as your lives are now!”

“How is it you created this?” shouted Izarre as he pushed to the front of the crowd. “How do you remain?” Overhead, he saw his guardian fly to land on top of the manor’s roof. He also noticed how it caught the glare of both the Spirit and the Witch.

“Pesky thing!” the Baroness yelled to it before returning her scowl to the Commander. “What’s this? The pathetic fools have managed to recruit yet more sympathizers?” 

“We are no longer alone!” Justice asserted. “Your reign ends here!”

“As it happens, I am no longer alone either.” It was then when the talking darkspawn emerged from the shadows, immediately catching glower from the Wardens below.

“My path back across the Veil lies in victory over you and your new allies. Then the Mother will pay for her treachery!”

“You should choose your _pets_ more carefully,” Izarre mocked as the betrayed First leapt to the ground.

“Instead I should have chosen you, mortal?” she said in a snit.

“We must be ending this! Now! The Grey Warden, it is more dangerous than you know.” To this Izarre grinned and took a few steps back.

“Nathaniel?

“Yes, Commander?”

“Do you have a line of sight?”

“I do, Commander.”

“Take the shot.” Manifesting an icicle dagger, Izarre hurled it into the First’s chest. The arrow from the Rogue was aimed at the Baroness’s head, but a summoned Ash spawned in front before it could reach its mark.

“The battle is joined!” Justice rallied the townsfolk who also began to bombard the balcony with arrows of their own as Izzare went head-to-head with his prey. Anders stood back to cast a protection spell over the group as more demons were summoned into the melee. Oghren charged at whatever he could while Nathaniel provided cover with thrown knives and other projectiles ranging from even more arrows to poisonous grenades. Continuing his relentless attack against his own enemy, the small Mage continued to fight with a fierceness he had become infamous for.

Using his size to his advantage, he managed to avoid many swings from a heavy sword or reflected them to knock the creature off-balance to stay within striking range, slicing at its stomach and groin. As a coup-de-grace, the monster’s face was grabbed to freeze its head in an attempt to snap it off entirely, but Izarre was forced to jump away to avoid another attack which could have severed off his arm. Not fast enough, it still managed to make a sizeable wound. Still, his magic had enough time to spread over half of the Darkspawn’s face and shattered the flesh there revealing skull bone. 

“They are too much!” it screamed to the Witch still watching from her post. “It must be sending me back through the Veil! Now, before it is too late!”

“Oh, I will sunder the Veil all right! I’ll send them all back! But you…your life is going to provide the power!”

“No! No!” the First cried out as its body was torn apart. A flash of light blinded the Wardens as they abruptly found themselves feeling suffocated and gasping for air. It was Izarre who woke up first on the cold, wet ground of Blackmarsh in the real world and his party began to awaken shortly after. They all cursed and groaned from being covered in mud, their heads spinning from the dizzying trip.

“Is that was it feels like for a mage _every_ time?” grunted Nathaniel as he pushed himself to stand and looked to help Anders to his feet.

“Not every time, no,” the Blond responded with a laugh. “A bit like popping your cherry!” He then noticed the Commander holding a bleeding arm while staring completely petrified as the body of the slain Warden began to move on its own.

“What…where am I?” the Spirit trapped within the corpse asked as he also stood. “What is happening?” Taking a few steps, he stumbled over rocks and dirt. “No! This is the world of mortals, beyond the Veil! And this…this is a mortal body of flesh! I am trapped with!” Anders took Izarre’s injured arm in hand to heal the fresh wound as he watched Justice in his state of panic with only one thing to say.

“Well, shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Played a LOT of Dragon Age: Inquisition and wrote a middle story about Cullen and Hawke! Please read and leave comments :D


	6. How to Befriend a Zombie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer: A few lines of dialogue have been taken directly from the game or have been paraphrased from game dialogue. Anything recognizable as game dialogue is not mine, and I bow to the BioWare writing team.*

“How…did you even get here?” Izarre asked as he took a step towards the walking dead out of sheer curiosity. Grumbling, the Spirit began to pace back and forth before replying.

“The Witch sundered the Veil in her haste. We must have been all drawn through. You returned to your original bodies, but I…”

“Then you are rather fortunate.” Justice looked shocked at the revelation.

“Fortunate? How so?”

“If not for a body already being here, what would have happened to you otherwise? Dispersed? Dead?” Pressing his lips together, the trapped entity took a moment to consider what would have been far less favorable alternatives.

“I…suppose you are correct, but we have no time to ponder. She has returned to this realm as well. Can you not feel it? The Baroness is nearby.”

“How did she return?” Anders asked as he put a protective hand on his apprentice’s shoulder to pull the younger mage away from the possessed corpse out of fear and uncertainty. “Isn’t she dead, just like all the others?” Shaking his head, Justice turned to look off at the manor in the distance.

“You misunderstand, she is not mortal as you are or as the villagers she kept trapped. There was such a mortal, once, but now? That is a demon of pride. She assumed that role long ago to feed from the mortals she trapped. But here,” he paused to look back at the Wardens. “In your world, here she will be quite something else.”

“Then she would need to possess a body,” Anders frowned as he squeezed Izarre’s shoulder even more. “Demons need to possess other mages in order to crossover unless they are summoned. I still don’t understand why you are in that one…As I can tell, Kristoff was not one of us.”

“I do not know why I am in this body. It was not by choice, I assure you.” Still, a protective grip which kept Izarre at a distance remained as Justice was looked upon in disbelief. “The Veil is sundered, and the tears must be closed lest they continue to spill demons out into this world. That may explain as to why I am here, but I do not have any further answers for you. I can alter your weapons for a time, allowing them to drive back the Fade’s magic…but if we are to deal with the Baroness, we must move swiftly.”

“Then we need to leave,” Izarre nodded in agreement as he pulled away from Anders’ grasp and removed his weapons from holding. “And bless Nathaniel’s bow as well as Oghren’s axe.”

“It’s not a blessing, but a modification,” corrected Justice as his face twisted at the thought of his skills somehow being holy. With a held out hand, he caused the weapons to glow with a soft white light which tingled the bearer’s hands. As Nathaniel plunked the string of his bow, he could hear a new, almost musical, sound coming from it even as it started to rain. While the splashes of cool water felt soothing to the Wardens, Justice had a difficult time concentrating at first as the water danced along his newfound flesh. It was pleasurable, a sensation he smiled uncontrollably in feeling for the first time.

“So, this is the world of mortals,” the Baroness could be heard from near the gates. “How very dull it seems, so immutable and unchanging. Yet, I am here! I have crossed the Veil! The spirits will watch in envy as the mortals of this realm will bow down before me!”

“Think she’s talking about you, Justice?” Anders teased, but was stared at flatly. Coming out from hiding, Justice approached Pride with his companions behind him.

“That will not happen, demon.”

“Ah,” the woman turned around with a devious smirk. “It seems I was not the only one to be drawn here. How very tiresome.”

“How are you even here without a body?” Izarre asked as he tried to piece together the phenomenon.

“Why does that even matter?” Nathanial asked, but was shushed by his Commander.

“Simple,” the demon spoke up as if happy to explain her magnificent plan. “I have harnessed the power of those fools trapped in our realm for an eon! My true from has substance here! I had no idea I could enter the mortal world this way. Had I know…Ah, but I am here now, yes?”

“So, demons can drain the remaining life force of souls trapped in the Fade?” Anders pondered out loud. “Meaning the reverse could also occur. A living being could steal powers from demons and spirits to eventually manifest themselves as a whole in the Fade without dreaming…”

“A disturbing thought, though we should focus on the task at hand,” Justice interrupted.

“Soon, I will be queen as this world deserves! And you…You will be the first of my subjects!”

“Ah, we already have a queen, thank you very much!” Anders shouted back. “And he’s standing right her, so I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you!” A finger pointed at Izarre who, in return, rolled his green eyes as he readied his blades.

“Shut up and cast something big.”

“Ha, as you wish, your Majesty.” Pulling his hands back, a fireball was manifested and flung towards the mocking demon, engulfing it in flames which were the size of her human form, at first, but began to grow as green light from her eyes pierced the dense fog of the marsh. As the spell cleared, it Pride’s true form of a massive, armor-clad creature of horns and claws was revealed.

“Ha!” Oghren laughed. “Looks like you just pissed her off! My turn!” Running ahead, the Dwarf swung his axe at the demon’s leg as if it were a tree and successfully managed to crack its armor there. Over and over again, the blade struck as black liquid sputtered out from the wound. In an attempt to turn the tides, vortexes were opened by the Baroness to overrun the Wardens with lesser demons as it ran for better cover within the confines of the abandoned courtyard.

“Close those portals!” Justice yelled as he charged at one with his enchanted sword. Nathaniel also attacked the voids with shining arrows as Izarre and Anders continued to slay whatever came out of them to clear a path as Oghren remained chopping at Pride’s heels. With the last doorway to the Fade closed, Justice rushed the monster with his sword extended. “Return to your dark hole, villain!” The steel pierced through where the heart of the Baroness would have been if some portion of the original remained and the shallow shell of what was left exploded into millions of disintegrating pieces. “And so, it is done,” he sighed in relief as he turned to the others. “You are all quite brave. For mortals,” he complimented. “And for what it is worth, thank you. I have fulfilled my vow. May the victims of that woman’s madness rest in peace, wherever they have gone.”

“You mean, you don’t know?” Izarre frowned. Shaking his head, Justice answered in an almost apologetic tone.

“No. The spirits believe there is a place beyond the Fade, but…we have no more answers to such things than you mortals.”

“So, we believe in the Fade as the great beyond, but you’re saying even spirits believe in a place beyond that? I suppose no one actually knows the Maker, do they?” Anders shrugged as he stood close by. Turning to look at the Mage, Izarre shot yet another look to quiet his mentor down as Justice walked away to look around.

“It seems I cannot return to the Fade. I am trapped here, in the body of this…Grey Warden?” The words caught the Commander’s attention as he raised an eyebrow. “There are memories within this poor man’s mind. They are difficult to see, but…he was a Grey Warden? He was…slain by the darkspawn, the one called the First?”

“Indeed,” Izarre nodded. “The darkspawn are who we fight. Who the Grey Wardens fight. They’re the reason why we were sent to the Fade in the first place and why that man died.”

“Mortals come into the Fade all the time, but no spirit who has left to come to this world ever returns. Only the darker spirits, the one you call demons, desire to come here. My kind has no such desires. Yet, here I am…” The solemn voice trailed off as he thought of his home as a distant memory. “It seems I am at a loss. I know nothing of this world, and have only a few memories of this Grey Warden to draw from.” He paused to look at his new leader. “I do not wish to die. What shall I do, mortal? You seem to be a creature of good character, and you are of this world. Can you advise me?” Thoughtfully, Izarre reached out to tuck a stray piece of skin from a wound on Justice’s face back into place and the touch caused the pale body to shiver in reaction.

“You know nothing of this world? Not a bit?” the Commander asked as he retracted his hand.

“The demons seek out the dreamers, those mortals that come to the Fade, and they draw sustenance from their memories.”

“The mages, you mean? Not all mortals sleep and dream themselves into such a place.”

“Such as they are, but my kind has no compulsion. We feel sorry for you mortals, trapped as you are in this dismal place.”

“It’s not all that bad,” Anders grumbled as he looked disapprovingly upon at Izarre’s hand which touched Justice.

“However it is, I am trapped as well, alas. I…have no purpose here, no goal.”

“That’s not true,” Izarre shook his head and moved away from his magical tutor to stand as an equal, despite their noticeable size different. “You are inside the body of a Grey Warden, and as it so happens, I was…am…that body’s Commander. Thus, you should stay by my side to complete our mission…That is to say, the mission of the Grey Wardens and your own. It was the darkspawn who set in course the motion of events to have you trapped here and are you not the embodiment of justice? Do you not wish to seek your own as well?”

“You cannot be serious, Commander!” Nathanial and Anders said together, one of the few times they agreed on something, but Izarre held up his hand to shush them both.

“What say you then, Spirit?”

“…It was a darkspawn who murdered this mortal most ignobly, and the ones that commanded it yet live. To avenge his death…yes, that would be a purpose. Very well. I will join you, Grey Warden, if you will allow it.”

“Commander,” Izarre corrected with a polite smile. “Commander Izarre Cousland-Theirin. Prince-Consort to the King of Ferelden…Though Commander is just fine, but what shall I call you? The body you inhabit belonged to a man by the name of Kristoff…”

“That is not my name,” Justice vehemently disagreed. “I have no name, only a virtue to which I aspire. If I am to need a name, then use that. I am Justice. And for now, I am pleased to travel at your side, Commander.”

“Wait,” Nathaniel spoke up as they turned to leave Blackmarsh. “I have a question.”

“Of course,” Justice nodded as he turned to give his undivided attention. Nervously, the Rogue cleared his throat and averted his gaze.

“What happens when this body of yours…expires?”

“How long does such a process take?”

“Well, you’re already peeling a bit, but I don’t know. Can you still walk around once you’re simply bones?”

“So I’m led to believe, yes.”

“That…is incredibly disturbing.”

“We can find a way to preserve the flesh once we return to the keep. I’m sure someone knows how to keep him…together,” Izarre shrugged with a bit of jest. For some reason, he found it incredibly amusing even if his minions did not. Anders especially continued to disapprove in fear of the spirit suddenly attempting to possess himself or his apprentice and maintained a noticeable distance with his own body always acting as a buffer between Izarre and misplaced zombie, though Justice didn’t seem to notice as he was too busy enthralled by his surroundings while calling out the misdeeds of Nathaniel’s shady past.  Izarre found a bit of pleasant distraction as well in an abandoned summoning circle which called upon the spirit of a trapped dragon he was more than happy to cleanse from his world by stabbing it repeatedly until it finally dispersed back into whatever tear in the Fade it came out from before gathering up his trophy dragon skull and convinced Oghren into carrying it back to Vigil’s Keep for him.

Little did the Grey Wardens know that somewhere in the Deep Roads, a formerly human broodmother spoke to one of her spawn in a raspy voice which dripped with insanity. “Mother…?” a Genlock whispered as he came to her.

“It comes with sweet news, I hope?” she replied as her head lifted and red eyes opened. The tentacles of her lower half flicked in wait causing her multiple breasts to sway back and forth.

“The First, it is dead,” the creature below her said timidly. “The Grey Wardens are gone from the marsh.”

“Wicked, wicked Wardens!” she screamed as she began to sob into her leathery black hands. “They killed the First! Killed him! Cut out the Mother’s heart!”

“But…Was it not the Mother who wished him dead?”

“Dead!” she cried out with dark, thick tears still leaking even as she maniacal laughed.  “No…Peace! I wished him peace! To find the song again…to hear the sweet call…” The large grey tendrils of hers wiggled once again as she lowered her voice. “We are all lost. But the day will come when the silence ends, even for me…”

At Vigil’s Keep, a young woman stood by the well near the gates as she patiently waited for her husband to return. As Izarre and the rest of the Wardens reentered the fortress, her heavy heart lifted and fluttered in her chest. “Kristoff!” she called out. “Kristoff! Oh, thank the Maker!” Justice looked surprised at first before pensively pressing his lips together.

“I fear you are mistake, mortal.” With arms extended, the woman stumbled forward to reach out for the man she loved, but he quickly moved away from the would-be embrace. Watching carefully, the Prince attempted to understand the situation.

“You…were his wife?” he asked gently as Justice looked upon him.

“I _am_ his wife!” the grieving widow insisted.

“Your husband is…gone,” Justice tried to explain as best he could. “And I inhabit this body now. His death will be avenged, I assure you.” Anders groaned at such a cold statement along with the other mage.

“Avenged?” the wife of the deceased Warden began to shout. “You’ve desecrated his body! How dare you!”

“It was not intentional,” Justice stammered. “There was…”

“Get away from me!” With that, she ran off with tears in her eyes beyond the gates to the caravan which ran between coastal city and the Keep. For a moment, the Spirit seemed speechless as his own thoughts blended with the corpse’s he had taken control of.

“This…body…has memories of this woman. Aura is her name. I did not know she would come.”

“Even if you don’t understand, us _mortals_ have complicated lives. For a moment, she thought her husband was alive…only to find out he’s not, yet his form still walks and talks. It would be difficult for anyone to process,” Izarre said to him.

“…You…are correct. I must rectify this, somehow. Intentionally or not, I have done this woman a great disservice.”

“You may just make her angrier,” his leader then warned. “Do you remember anything such as Kristoff’s last thought of her? Where she might have gone?”

“My memories suggest her home is in Amaranthine. It will prey on me if we do not seek her out.” Grumbling, Justice held his head and rubbed the throbbing sensation there. “There must be something that can be done to assuage her pain! Something! I know the darkspawn call our attention, but should we get the chance to seek her out, I would be grateful, Commander.” Nodding in agreement, Izarre dismissed his party so he could spend some time alone and wander around the Keep as merchants gathered to buy and sell supplies, dwarves worked on the defenses, and the lively blacksmith tinkered away at new sets of armor. After settling the debt for a new wall to be built and scaring the messenger nearly to death with the face he made about not receiving a letter from Alistair yet, the worn-out Noble made his way back inside of the Keep to claim a bed for the night.

Before retiring however, he was stopped by Oghren. Not nearly an intoxicated as he should have been, the Dwarf pulled Izarre into a corner and began to whisper. “Hey, Commander. We need to talk.”

“Talk?” Izarre questioned bemused. “Am I in trouble now?”

“Is my axe buried in your chest? No? Then you’re not in trouble,” Oghren gruffed. “It’s something else.” The Firebeard was stared at with intrigued green eyes which waited for an explanation. “Dreams. You get them? Is this a Grey Warden thing? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“At least it’s not a Blight anymore. You hear the archdemon then.”

“…I can’t imagine he has anything interesting to say.”

“He really doesn’t.”

“And in my dream, I saw one of those bloated, vomit-smeared broodmothers, and it had Hespith’s face… You remember her, don’t you? Branka was there too and whispered ‘ _It’s time,_ ’ and Hespith screamed and a thousand darkspawn burst from her…”

“That’s…strange.”

“You’re telling me! Then the darkspawn surrounded me and started talking…asking me if I would like lemon in my tea…And could I please teach them to read and write, and one of them kept repeating: ‘ _Where’s the baby?_ ’” That’s when I woke up!” Cocking an eyebrow, Izarre could only shake his head.

“I…believe you have too much on your mind…” Taking a moment to reflect, the Berzerker suddenly laughed.

“Usually, they accuse me of the opposite! Though…thanks for listening, Commander.” With a farewell, Oghren left for the pantry as Izarre turned to walk towards his room again, but this time ran into a patiently waiting Justice accompanied by Anders outside of his door.

“A moment, if you would, Commander?” he was asked by the Spirit before he nodded to the request and beckoned them both to come in as he took the time to remove his armor.

“What is it?” As Anders took a seat on the bed, Izarre didn’t see to pay the tipsy Mage any attention as he took off his weapons and gloves.

“It’s just…this world is nothing like I thought it would be. Only demons lust to cross the Veil, but the rest of us scoff. We pity you mortals, we do not even them.”

“Perhaps instead of pity, you should try to help us instead,” Izarre suggested as he shooed Anders over to make room as he sat down on his bed as well to unstrap his boots.

“That’s an issue as well,” Justice continued. “The spirits consider mortals beyond their reach, and beyond help. They do not understand…but we are wrong about this world. There is beauty here…and the mortals, they are worth saving.”

“You mean Aura? Kristoff’s wife?”

“And you as well. You helped me in the Fade, and have proven yourself since. It is not right to judge all mortals the same.” Smiling at them, Izarre stood once again as he unhooked his leather chest plate.

“Are you saying we’re friends, now?” Moving his eyes down to the floor and briefly at Anders, Justice nodded as he considering the proposal.

“A _friend_ ,” he answered. “That is an interesting concept. I do know how to respond to that. I wonder…may I make a request then?”

“Ha! Just started as a friend and he’s already asking you for favors, Izarre,” Anders laughed in his inebriated state only to be kicked in the shin by his Commander. “Ow…What was that for?”

“For being a moron. Shut up.” Looking between the two, the Spirit seemed confused at the back and forth at first, then amused.

“I see you two are quite…close as to insult each other without feelings of resentment. I believe I am beginning to understand. My request however, is there is something in this world you call lyrium. Might you find me an object made from it?”

“Raw lyrium, you mean?” Anders asked while rubbing the sore spot on his leg. “That’s dangerous to mortals. It will be difficult to locate.”

“Dangerous to you perhaps, but not to a body that is already dead, surely.”

“Hmm…fair point, but why would you want such a thing?”

“I desire only the smallest bit of pure rock. The version of lyrium that mortals dream of in the Fade…it is not the same. Here, it sings.”

“..Sings?” Izarre asked as he looked concerned to Anders. The Blond shrugged as he had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

“The sound is something only a spirit could hear, but it summons an ache I didn’t know I had. It is similar to the pain the memories this body gave me when his wife left. You are married as well, from what I understand. Perhaps you too know of such a feeling?” With his chest piece finally removed, Izarre placed it carefully in a corner near the bed.

“I…I understand,” he admitted. “Without Alistair here, I…” There was a choke in his throat then that was immediately cleared, though Anders’ playful mood noticeably lessened because of it. “I’ll see what I can do for you.”

“Thank you,” Justice smiled genuinely. “That is most kind.”

“Think nothing of it…Now if you do not mind, I wish to retire for the evening…and take this one with you. My chambers are not to be shared by an intoxicated, cat-loving fool.”

“I’m not _that_ drunk…and what’s wrong with cats?” Anders pouted as he attempted to stretch out like one on the mattress only to fall off after an uncoordinated roll onto his back. Justice frowned at the behavior and moved to help the Mage up to escort him out.

“As you wish, Commander. Sleep well. Come along, Anders. I believe you were telling me about the injustices to other mages in this tower prison, yes?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Screenshots of a blood-splattered Izarre: http://stoletarts.tumblr.com/post/107639226141/dragon-age-origins-awakening-blood-splattered


	7. When to Reach Out and Touch Someone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer: A few lines of dialogue have been taken directly from the game or have been paraphrased from game dialogue. Anything recognizable as game dialogue is not mine, and I bow to the BioWare writing team.*

“This…isn’t really what I was expecting to see when you said we were heading into the forest,” Nathaniel grumbled as a curve in the dirt road led the Wardens directly into a collection of burning caravans.

“At least we now know what happened to the merchants trading here,” Justice commented as he kicked over a charred skull still set aflame from recent events. “We should find the cause of these attacks and put them to grinding halt.”

“We need to find a way around the wreckage first,” Izarre agreed and turned to climb up a hill to get a better view of their surroundings. He was followed by Anders and Oghren, though the Mage kept slipping on loose stones and dirt as he poorly combated his hangover. Feeling pity for the human, Oghren grabbed Anders by the back of his coat and tugged him to the top of the small cliff.

“If I’m going to end up carrying you through this place, we’re going to have to set up some kind of payment arrangement,” the Dwarf teased. “Nobody rides for free.”

“Ugh, I’m already feeling like shit. Please don’t make me nauseous as well,” Anders pleaded with a noticeably green face. Even while concentrating on surveying the land, Izarre still chuckled loudly at the dirty joke.

“There aren’t enough bandits here to cause this sort of damage,” he concluded by pointing out several spots where smoke still rose in the distance and the number of makeshift camps where he could see movement. “Looks like we may have to fight our way through scavengers and highwaymen, but none of them have the resources to do this sort of destruction in such a short period of time.”

“So, we don’t know what we’re up against? Could it be darkspawn again?” Nathaniel asked, but Izarre could only shrug.

“I can’t sense any nearby…If they did do this, they would have retreated back underground, but why leave the goods intact?” Kneeling down, he removed a scorched chest and broke the lock by freezing it with magic before shattering the metal with the hilt of his sword. When opened, it revealed some of the missing silks and gems with only slightly visible fire damage. “Darkspawn are looters and defilers. They would not kill without claiming treasures of gold and armor. Something is very wrong here…”

“Maker help me!” a man screamed in the distance. Kicking the chest of looted goods to Nathaniel, who then promptly kicked it again into the nearby bushes to hide its contents, Izarre stood to face the frightened thief running towards them. “Get out of my way! I need to get out of here!”

“Calm down!” the Commander snapped as he blocked the path.

No! You don’t understand! She’s after me!”

“Cool your temper, mortal,” Justice tried to assist. “Who is after you?”

“The elf! She makes the trees come alive! All we wanted was some easy money from the caravans, but…”With the sound of the branches snapping in the distance, the man jumped at the noise. “Maker help me! She’s here! Got to get away!” Picking up the small Warden in front of him, Izarre found himself placed to the side as he watched the thief run off. It was the tingle up his spine which made him turn back around just in time to see a bright orb of light turn into a sour-faced Elven woman with yellow hair and a green tunic as she stood on the rocky ledge above him. As she stared venomously at the Wardens, she began to ramble out false accusations.

“Another scavenger here to prey on the misfortunes of others? No, you are too well-armed. Here for me, then.” Izarre kept his eyes locked with hers, but didn’t respond. “Fine! You will not drive me from these forests. The shems could not do it, the darkspawn could not do it, and you will fare no better!”

“What do you know about the caravan attacks?” called out Justice, demanding an answer.

“The shem merchants stole my sister! Their actions drove me to this! The caravans are only the beginning. I want Seranni returned to me, or…or more will die. Deliver this message! Consider this a warning!” With a clutch of her fists, the roots of the forest surrounded her body and drug her underneath the earth where she tunneled swiftly away like a gigantic mole fleeing from predators. She could sense their power just as Anders and Izarre could sense hers. Despite her threats, she knew that she was no match for two skilled mages and three trained combatants. The caravans were defenseless, but the Wardens were another matter entirely.

“She headed up there,” Izarre pointed up to the more mountainous region and began the trek past more burning wagons, dead bodies, and ancient trees which sprung to life and attacked the group without warning. There was finally a clearing where a ruin stood to shelter what remained of a recent Elven campsite. Just before the entrance, the Commander took notice of a sword standing tall as a planted beacon. The blade was a typical soldier’s main hand, but it made no sense that anyone would purposely place such a thing here and leave themselves defenseless in the middle of the hostile woods.

Justice’s attention was taken by a glint off to the side and he left to examine a slain Elven defender on the ground still in full armor. He seemed hypnotized and only flinched when his comrades joined him. “Death,” he said. “We spirits know no more of it than you do. What lies beyond is obscured, even to us. Can you tell me of these people? They are unlike the others I have seen.”

“Ah,” Izarre said as he kneeled down to examine what killed the man at his feet. “They are called the Dalish; a faction of elves who still live freely in the woods. They are…nomadic, worshiping old gods and are self-governed.”

“The body I inhabit was familiar with that name. My memories say the Dalish were cast out, unwelcome in almost every land. Why is that?”

“They…hold to their own traditions,” Nathaniel tried to explain. “They do not want our kings and nobles controlling their steps…so I’ve heard.”

“How odd that mortals find so many differences to hate when you have so very much in common,” Justice frowned in disapproval. “Yet are Wardens not the same? Do we not govern ourselves?”

“Wardens aren’t very welcome either,” Izarre grumbled. “Life isn’t fair.”

“To one such as I, it is difficult to tell you apart.” Izarre’s glare forced Justice to stammer and explain himself quickly. “To a spirit, I mean. Are these similarities not worth rejoicing in?”

“We rarely separate your kind from demons, though you are ever so quick to remind us how different you are. Such distinction is important to you,” Anders argued as he once again moved between Justice and his thought-of charge.

“…You…are correct. I do not understand them. My entire existence is spent seeking out wrongs to right…”

“But you’ve already decided what you wish to do now though. Just the other night, you asked me for something entirely for yourself and not to correct any misdoings,” Izarre smiled as he meant for it to be a good thing.

“…Ah, the lyrium. Perhaps you are right…But what else am I if not a seeker of justice?” To that, a hand reached out from behind Anders to give an encourage pat to Justice’s arm.

“You’re a friend and a Grey Warden. We can still seek out wrongs to right, but also have the choice of what to do in-between.” The Spirit cracked a small lighthearted grin and gave a nod as Izarre left to go explore more suspicious evidence at the campsite with the other Rogue and Berserker.

“He is truly kind. I see why your heart glows a bit brighter in his presence.”

“My heart doesn’t…glow…does it?” Anders laughed nervously and turned to the undead. “I…well,” he continued to stammer and coughed to calm himself. “My only concern is that a healthy creature such as you understands that he may be a mage, but he is an absolute novice at best. He did not study the Fade nor, do I fear, does he understand the true dangers of a misplaced spirit.”

“I pose no threat to any of you, mortal.”

“Trust me, they all say that. More so, we need to find out what other spirit keeps following him and what they want.”

“The woman in mourning? Did you not ask her?”

“Woman?” Confused, Anders turned to lower his voice to a whisper. “What woman? Izzy…Izarre said that he was seeing a large red bird?”

“Those flying creatures? No, this was a female if memory serves. The figure was much like this body’s wife with a sweet voice offering guidance, but filled with regret. Was it Compassion, I wonder?” Justice pondered out loud. “When I see her again, I will question her motives.”

“Wait,” Anders sighed as he put his hands out. “So, why would he see a bird and I only saw a glimmer of light if it’s some woman?”

“She did not create a form for you to see, though it isn’t strange you could sense her presence. The bird must be a connection to one of the Commander’s memories. I am as proof as ever that the body will cling to something even if the mind has forgotten. There are fingerprints on everything you mortals touch which still exist long after you are gone. Perhaps he does not see her true form as he does not want to, in a way? I cannot begin to start guessing about how you mortals deal with such forgetfulness. Or lies. Denials. Why have you not told him how you feel since we are on this topic?  Are you afraid? Is the fear of rejection so…” A hand was placed over Justice’s mouth as he kept questioning the Mage’s motives.

“Do not ask me such things, Spirit. You have no understanding of this world or any type of understanding of the long-term effects such confessions can cause.” Justice’s eyebrows lowered and he nodded slowly at what he was told to do. As Izarre came back, Anders quickly removed his hand and put on a smile. “So, what did you find? Anything interesting?”

“Bunch of weapons thrown in a pile like someone put ‘em there to do…something,” Oghren grunted as his lips twisted. “Guessing they meant to make it look like Ferelden soldiers were here killing folks, but no raid party would leave their swords behind like that. Think that elf lady might of been stupid enough to fall for such an obvious setup though.”

“That explains why she was attacking the caravans,” Nathaniel agreed. “But my skin crawls here. It’s almost as if I can _feel_ the darkspawn nearby.”

“You get used to it,” Izarre reluctantly agreed. “With what we’ve been seeing, I’m not surprised. We’re dealing with a new breed here. Intelligent and manipulative…I really, really don’t like this.”

“If there are darkspawn about, we should flush them from their holes,” Justice insisted and began to walk down the hill in a formal march. Izarre nodded and followed, though playfully mocked the militant steps until the Spirit turned to stare at him. With a grin, he waved the corpse along and retook the lead. Nathaniel snickered at the two while Anders frowned at it. Running ahead, he caught up to the younger man to separate his commander from the possessed body.

“Stop!” Izarre yelled and grabbed Anders by the arm. Assuming he was in trouble, the Mage bumbled a few lines to explain himself before following the gaze to the pit of bodies he almost stepped into.

“…Ew.”

“Commander, there’s movement over there in the bushes,” Nathaniel pointed. Behind the brush was a wounded solider covered in taint blotches with his eyes already dimmed as life fled his body.

“Don’t look…Don’t look at me!” shouted the injured, infected man as he crawled back slowly while trying to hide his appearance.

“Shh,” the Commander calmed him and removed a glove before reaching out to coax the turned away face. “It’s alright.” The dying pupils attempted to focus as if lulled by the Warden’s voice.

“My eyes…I can’t see much anymore. My blood is burning…I smell you… I know you’re there. You’re burning like me, but different. You all are. Your hand is icy. It feels…better, but do not touch me! You’ll become as I am!”

“We’re Grey Wardens, so do not worry about us,” Izarre reassured him as his bare thumb carefully stroked the cratered cheek. “Who are you?”

“Olaf…my name. Came with friend to…to drive out…away the elf. But…the darkspawn were too quick. Everyone dead…dead soft meat melting into the ground. I…I crawled away…came here. Can’t stand to…see it.” The face being held turned into Izarre’s palm as a few tears and sniffles escaped.

“Where did the darkspawn come from?”

“Beneath…around…from the shadows.”

“And they killed the elves?”

“Yes. Yes, they came first. They slaughtered us…took our steel. Brought it to the elven camp. Tricked us, tricked the elf. Now…she thinks we are to blame. Hunts all in her rage…while they watch…”

“So all these people died over a….misunderstanding?” Anders asked. “Maker…that’s horrible! We have to stop her, tell her she’s wrong!”

“She might be back at her camp,” Justice suggested. “There were graves there. We need to go in search for her before she kills any more innocents.”

“The dark ones are curious about you too,” Olaf muttered as he reached up to stop his face from being touched. “They watch you as well as her. Can you feel them?” Turning to look at the dark bramble, Izarre gave a silent nod.

“Were you a solider once? Do you have any family to…send word to? What you have will kill you…I’m sorry.”

“No family, all died during the Blight. I was a solider…I helped when Denerim was attached, but the crown hadn’t enough coin to rebuild the entire army. Us lesser ones were given a sovereign to start over, so I turned to this…Maker knows King Alistair is doing what he can to fix what Loghain and his venomous daughter broke, but we still have to eat. Heh, not anymore, I suppose. Am already dead. Am already gone. Make…make an end…please.”

“…I will be sure to address the King in your name, Olaf. My husband may not see everything, but is an understanding man.”

“Your…husband?” Olaf asked while surprised. “That would mean you’re…your Highness! Forgive me! I…”

“Shh. Rest now. You will see the Maker and be free of this pain.” The tainted man nodded and slowly shut his eyelids. There was only a slight grunt when Izarre’s hand moved to his chest and injected a frozen spike into his heart. After gently resting the body down onto the ground before standing, he took a few steps back from it. He had noticed the group of darkspawn which gathered from behind, but remained still as he gave a silent gesture for the other Wardens to get rid of them. When there were none left, he turned to Anders with a request. “Burn them. Burn all of them. We can’t risk a spread of the disease to anyone coming through the forest and being attacked by wild animals tainted from eating the rotten flesh.” As the Mage went to perform the task, Justice asked what was troubling him the most.

“And what of the elf woman?”

“As said, she’s probably back at her camp. We’ll start there and follow any tracks. She will be dealt with, Justice. I assure you.”


	8. Why You Should Always Enchant Your Armor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer: A few lines of dialogue have been taken directly from the game or have been paraphrased from game dialogue. Anything recognizable as game dialogue is not mine, and I bow to the BioWare writing team.*

Upon returning to the elven camp, Izarre heard faint sobbing as he neared the unmarked graves. There she was kneeling before them. A hand reached out to stroke the dirt mounds in sorrow before clutching a fistful of soil in rage. This motion was repeated over and over again, each time she pounded against the cold earth to she scream out her frustrations. She also knew only too well who was behind her, watching her quiver in such deep despair and hatred. “Why are you still here?!” Izarre stopped a few feet away and held his arm out to pause to the Wardens. “I told you to stay away from me!”

“Did you really think I would leave?” he asked as he walked to her side by himself to reflect upon the makeshift headstones.

As he approached, the elf jumped away defensively. “I warned you! This place is not for you!”

“You’ve killed innocent people!” the Commander snapped back as changed to a more militant stance.

“Innocent?! They deserved everything I have done to them! They brought this on themselves, just as you have!” A green glow appeared as she began to cast a spell with her dirt-caked hands, but the blade at her throat convinced her to disperse the magic. “I…want to die where my loved ones died. Will you give me that, at least?”

“I came to talk to you first,” growled her attacker as she was pushed back, but the sword still remained outstretched near her somewhat exposed chest.

“Talk?” she scoffed. “There’s nothing you can say that will…”

“The humans are not to blame for what happened here.”

“You expect me to believe that? What of the weapons, or my sister’s disappearance?”

“Planted by the darkspawn after they slaughtered your people. They killed the humans to take their weapons first.”

“They should have never have come here in the first place! If they had just left us alone, all this would never have happened!”

“The darkspawn don’t just _leave people alone_ ,” Izarre argued. “But this? There’s no excuse for any of this!”

“Well if it wasn’t the humans who killed my people and took Seranni, are you saying the darkspawn did it?”

“I found this on one of the beasts that attacked us earlier. It looks…elvish,” Nathaniel said as tossed an amulet over to her. “They often loot the bodies of people they kill.” Catching the trinket, the scorned woman’s rage only grew instead of subsiding.

“That…that is Seranni’s! She would never willingly part with that! Our mother gave it to her before she died!” Clutching the necklace to her chest, her bitter voice cracked as she attempted to hold back another round of sobs. “Why would the darkspawn do this?”

“We’re here to find out. They’ve been…tricky,” Nathaniel offered to ease her worries again with a smile and the intention to place a comforting hand upon her bare shoulder, but she immediately pulled away.

“They turn women into broodmothers,” Izarre stated plainly as he yanked the Howe by his belt before he embarrassed himself even further.

“Are you saying Seranni will…become one of them? I will not allow that!”

“If you go down there alone, they will capture you as well. You are no Warden which means you are not immune to their influence and sickness.”

“I’ve survived on my own before. Do you doubt me?”

“Doubt? No…but if you’re going there anyway, we’ll be heading in the same direction…”

You…you want to find Seranni? W-why?”

“Commander,” Justice interrupted. “A moment in private?” As the elf’s face pinched in at the cheeks, Izarre moved to answer the call of his friend.

“Yes?” he asked as his arm was taken by the Spirit to be pulled even further away as not to be overheard.

“This murderer should be brought to justice. Why should we assist her at all?”

“Because she’s a looker!” Anders teased as he let himself into the huddle. “What do you think her sister’s like?” he then whistled as Izarre rolled his eyes at them both.

“You need to trust that I will do the right thing, Justice. Immediate results are not always the best….and Anders?”

“Yes? How can I assist you this lovely day?”

“Shut up and try not to fuck the rampaging elf. Tuck that tiny thing of yours away.”

“T..tiny?! It’s not tiny at all! It’s huge! Heavy even!”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that,” Izarre smiled and stuck out his tongue before returning to the woman while Anders kept sulking next to Justice.

“Have you decided?” she asked while peering curiously at the Commander when he returned.

“We are going to hunt for the darkspawn, yes. Come with us if you’d like.” With that, Wardens turned to walk away while she stood there with her lips pressed together and hesitantly shuffled her feet. Looking down, she eyed the graves once more before turning her sad gaze to her sister’s trinket.

“My name is Velanna, if you care for such things. Do you know where the darkspawn might dwell?” she asked while hurrying to catch up.

“Tunnels, most likely,” Izarre replied as he stood still to look at her.

“There is an abandoned mine some ways to the north of here; the tunnels run far into the earth. We will likely find the darkspawn there.” Agreeing, the Commander took lead once more to follow an abandoned dirt road towards a second set of stone ruins believed to be a fortress once with a recently cleared brush and rubble. Upon closer inspection, they saw what they then assumed to be the mine’s entrance with darkspawn guarding the barred door, more or less confirming Velanna’s suspicions, but she barely got a spell off from her staff before the Wardens had already taken out the bulk of them. Her interest in the Wardens grew, particularly on the white-haired young man who was annoyingly confident in his abilities and hid his amateurish magic use behind honed blade skills and finesse.

“You two,” Izarre said as he turned to Nathaniel and Oghren after the skirmish. “Return to the camp and be on the lookout. If we don’t return by sunrise, return to the Keep and warn them about the darkspawn here. Tell them what happened to the merchants.”

“You want us to stay behind?” Nathaniel asked, surprised. “You’re making it sound like you won’t be coming back…”

“I…just have a feeling,” Izarre smiled. “Oghren is in charge, by the way. Do as he says.”

“What? You can’t be bloody serious…OOF!” The complaining stopped when the Dwarf punched him directly in the family jewels.

“Don’t fret, Commander. I’ve got this. Straighten up, boy! Go scout the area!” Groaning, Nathaniel limped away to do as he was ordered while Izarre turned his attention to Anders.

“You can stay as well. Justice and I will be fine if…”

“I’m coming with you and that will be the end of it, yeah? Let us be off into the dark, dank, and dangerous-looking cave then, shall we?” he smiled and offered his arm out. Instead, he got a playful elbow to his side as Izarre laughed while walking ahead. Justice felt the amusement as well, a more common reaction to these types of affectionate displays, and followed along with Velanna close behind. It was a slippery walk down the path towards the barred door which led to the mines, but as they approached, the taint in the Warden’s blood suddenly spiked to near painful heights. It was a nauseating feeling; the type of sickness and churning one would feel after eating rotten food. That’s when they saw it; a twisted malice of an emissary darkspawn staring down at then from above the rocks and the magical trap they stumbled upon underneath their feet.

“Shhh,” it whispered as if its mouth were hovering just above their ears. “Sleep.”

“My body,” Justice struggled to say. “I cannot…” Reaching out, he slowly fell over onto the ground.

“Iz…Run,” Anders tried to save his friend as he soon joined Justice.

“No!” cried out Velanna as she too began to fall to her knees. “Seranni!” Izarre was the one left standing, but as his companions fell, his own strength was eventually sapped away as darkness overcame him.

“Oh!” Alistair exclaimed as he walked through the night markets of Orlais. “There’s an enchantment stall over there! I wonder if they have any of those figurines…” he said as he squeezed his lover’s hand in excitement. It was a gorgeous night in Val Royeaux. The air was still warm with a clear starlit sky as an ongoing celebration took place which was really an excuse for fireworks, fine wine, roasted meat, and poorly named cheeses. The royal couple had come to expect as much from the Empress when she invited them to spend part of their honeymoon in her capital city as a sign of peace and as a way to show her stronger claim to the throne by displaying an allied front. King Alistair and his new _Queen_ had accepted the invitation, which they also knew to be a guise for negotiating better terms with between the rival nations; something Celine had attempted before with Calian.

Of course, since Alistair was actually fond of his spouse, the terms had been drastically altered from a potential international marriage arrangements to simply relaxing a handful of trade regulations and an alteration to the import/export taxes. The entire process was long and grueling for the new King, but at least he had his nights to do with as he pleased. Tonight, all he wanted was to get away from the gaudy palace and masked nobles to spend more alone time with his handsome prince.

“You…want to go over there?” Izarre asked, not really sure what his husband saw in the odd little decorations, but went along with it anyway. It was nice to see Alistair’s true personality when they were together opposed to the characters they had created for themselves as nobility. “They could have a few dragon ones as well. You know, with the little crystal settings in their maw?”

“By the Maker, don’t tease me!” Alistair laughed as he pushed the silk and beaded curtains to the side with his free hand. There were several customers already in the store browsing gems and jewelry as the tranquil shopkeeper bowed politely to the Ferelden royals.

“Good evening, King Alistair,” she spoke in a traditional monotone voice. “And to you, Prince. May I assist you?”

“Yes,” Alistair smiled as he removed his hand from Izarre’s only to drape the arm around the small waist. “Do you have any of those little carvings of black marble of different creatures?”

“Yes, of course,” she answered and slowly extended her arm to the stocked back shelf nearby. “May I also suggest an enchantment while you are here? A sword, perhaps or something more intimate?”

“Intimate?” Izarre asked with a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Many of the enchantments we offer are for novelty as well. As newlyweds, we have True Love’s enchantment for your rings. I will inscribe a rune on the inner band so only your true love and yourself may ever remove it. I hear it is also helpful to avoid losing your rings to pickpockets and thieves as well.”

“Is that even such a thing?” Izarre asked as he made a face at the mention of being robbed. As a former ruffian, he knew how such things could easily happen to the wealthy and unassuming.

“Yes, it is said to have been created by a woman whose lover was in the army. She worried for his safety and asked a mage to enchant their rings so if he fell in battle or ran off with another, she would know immediately. If the love simply fades, the ring will slip off without warning.”

“And if they…die?” Alistair asked hesitantly.

“If the other dies, the ring will burn so hotly, it will leave a permanent mark so you will never forget them.”

“…Well, both of those sound awful. Izzy, promise me you won’t run off with a barmaid or something. Or die. Neither one of those things.” It was a half-joking comment, but Izarre seemed to be intrigued.

“Let’s do this.”

“Ha…what? Really? Why?”

“I don’t want my ring stolen.”

“…Did you not hear about the burning part?”

“Do you plan on dying?”

“No…”

“So, why not then?” Alistair stared for a moment, but eventually caved.

“Fine, but I’m getting one of those dragon statues. A big one too! Putting it in bed chambers!” Laughing once again, he carefully pulled off his ruby and gold wedding ring to place it on the counter as his spouse did the same with his own before hurrying to the back of the store. By the time he returned after choosing a full-sized dragon bust, the enchantment had been engraved and his statue paid for to be delivered to their castle back home. Taking Alistair’s hand first, Izarre slipped the heavy gold ring back onto its finger much like how he put it there in the first place when he proposed. The scene caused for the onlookers to stare, watching the royals blush at each other as Alistair did the same with Izarre’s more slender hand.  As they kissed while completely forgetting where they were, the applause and coos from the crowd helped them remember.

“We should head back,” whispered the younger Warden as his gentle touches and urges hinted at a reason to return to the palace which had nothing to do with trade compromises.

“Really?” Alistair asked with a bit of pout. “But I wanted to watch the...oh. OH! Yes, let’s…let’s go back.”

In a small, dark prison cell, Izarre remained unresponsive as a small female elf with yellow hair and black marks on her skin removed his armor and handed it over to the darkspawn assisting her. She had already stripped Anders, Justice, and her own sister from their protective clothing and weapons. All that remained was the Commander. It was then she saw it, the silver and sapphire-encrusted ring on his slim, pale finger. It was nearly hypnotizing, and while she was told to only take what was important, the urge to steal the piece of fine jewelry grew to be overwhelming. She waited until the darkspawn shadowing her steps moved on with the stolen goods before acting upon her impulse. With a delicate touch, she gave it a gentle tug, but the ring would not budge. A second more forceful pull also did nothing. It was the third attempt where Izarre’s green eyes snapped open and he moved to put an arm around her neck.

“WHO ARE YOU!?” he yelled, twisting her bones to a near breaking point and cutting off her air supply.

“Please…don’t,” she pleaded and reached out to the others on the floor. In a white flash from her palm, the spell seemed to break as the other prisoners came to their senses.

“Seranni!” Velanna cried out as she pushed herself to stand. “Let go of her! Oh creators, what have they done to you?” Reluctantly, Izarre released his hold on the frightened elf and she quickly dashed out of the cell, locking the door behind her.

“They haven’t done anything. I…I’m fine Velanna,” she whispered as she stood outside of the bars. “It’s not me he wants…” Anders had finally made it to his feet as well  with Justice’s assistance and moved to stand near Izarre’s side to make sure he was alright, only to watch the Commander twist the wedding ring around his finger protectively.

“What do they want then? Or who?” Izarre growled while demanding answers.

“…I…have to get you out before something bad happens. I don’t want anyone else to be hurt.”

“Weren’t we already hurt?” Anders asked as he rubbed the back of his sore neck.

“Yes, all right,” Velanna simply agreed. “Let me out and I’ll take you home.”

“…The darkspawn have your things,” the younger sister said to the Commander as she seemingly ignored her sibling. “You can still get it all back if you’re careful and clever.” Turning her head, she heard the shuffling of slow footsteps from the corridor. “They’re going to come to check on you. You have to hurry!”

“You know something! Tell me what’s going on!” Izarre raised his voice again loud enough to at least intimidate their captor.

“I…don’t know anything!” she insisted still and turned to her sister. “But take this key. It…it opens a chest in the emissary’s room. Maybe you’ll find some answers there.”

“How in bloody hell did you get a key in the first place?” Anders questioned further.

“I…found it,” was her response. “But they’re coming! You have to go, find a way out of the mines! Please!”

“I can’t just leave you! Seranni, wait!” Velanna cried out, but her sister was long gone. As soon as she disappeared into a different area of the dungeon, the door mysteriously unlocked itself.

“There is no coincidence in her sudden arrival and our freedom. I fear this is a trap, Commander,” Justice grumbled as he had been observing the scene quietly since their awakening.

“You are correct,” Izarre agreed. “I only awoke because she was attempting to rob me of my wedding band, but it’s enchanted. Only I or someone I love can take it off my hand without removing my entire finger first,” he smiled at it. “Which means only Alistair could…”

“Yes, yes we understand how enchantments work. How…romantic,” Anders said as he poorly hid his sarcasm. “So, she woke us up to bargain for her life and now she’s telling us to run? Don’t buy _that_ for a second.”

“She’s my sister!” Velanna interrupted. “She came to help us! We must find her! Let us hurry before the darkspawn come!” Pushing the door open, she marched out and began to head down the same hallway Seranni disappeared into. Justice and Izarre shared a mutual understanding glace, one which Anders immediately disapproved of. Before he could once again place himself between the two, they had already begun to follow the elf out of the prison cell and deeper into the ruins.


	9. Magic: When to Let It Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer: A few lines of dialogue have been taken directly from the game or have been paraphrased from game dialogue. Anything recognizable as game dialogue is not mine, and I bow to the BioWare writing team.*

Along the way were a few skirmishes with patrolling darkspawn where Izarre opted to use manifested ice blades to fight with rather than loot the supernatural undead. Even without a staff, Anders could still conjure up enough magic to roast his attackers while Velanna tore the creatures apart by calling upon the deep roots of ancient trees which had long since cracked the stone walls underground. Justice was less picky in regards to using the tools of his enemies and kept them at bay with a self-enchanted stolen sword and shield he had picked up after snapping the neck of a Genlock with his bare hands.

There were also bodies of other humans and elves that had been snatched from the forest path, but most were thankfully already dead with the exception of a few. The first risen they crossed paths with was wearing Velanna’s tunic. “That…that ghoul has my things!” she stammered out of surprised and disgust. “She has it all! I’m going to get it back. Are you with me?” Not waiting for an answer, she rushed ahead to kill the twisted clone of herself unassisted and promptly pulled her clothes from the remaining lumps of grey flesh. All three of the male Warden’s turned away in both flustered shyness and as a courtesy when she removed her prisoner garments and redressed back into her original attire.

With a happy sigh, she smoothed out her comfortable belongings to remove any clumps of clinging dirt and wrinkles. Further into the cave, Justice’s senses spiked as something in a dark corner caught his attention. “There is a living presence here. Something that has not been… Here, this way,” he said as he turned sharply. While Izarre made a face, Velanna’s magic emitted a faint light on the battered body of a soldier who was barely alive, but had yet to be consumed by the taint.

“You!” the beaten man as he caught a glimpse of white hair. “You’re the Warden-Commander! I…would not have expected to meet you here.”

“You know me?” Izarre asked in a soft voice as not to draw attention to themselves from any other predators lurking nearby in the darkness.

“From your description, yes. I was to help rebuild the Ferelden Wardens, just as you were. We were at Vigil’s Keep less than a week when the darkspawn came.” Kneeling down, the Commander looked over him then to Anders, who frowned while shaking his head. Old wounds were already infected at this point and unfortunate Warden Capture was without any strength to stop the bleeding from fresh ones. The worst of it were his legs which were noticeable broken with bones poking through his thin, torn skin. “I…think I’m the only one left. The others are dead or worse.”

“We can move you to safety,” Izarre weakly suggested despite knowing the outcome.

“I will never walk again,” the man smiled at the thought just the same. “But listen, there is a darkspawn here carrying a huge maul. He crushed my legs. He took my wedding ring.”

“Seems to be a trend forming here,” Velanna scoffed. The mention of it had Izarre thumbing his own ring as if making sure it was still there.

“Please, Commander, slay him. Bring the ring to my wife, Nida, in Amaranthine,” he begged. “Tell her I died trying to make this world better.”

“…I’d rather bring you to your wife,” Izarre mumbled. “So would she, I’d wager.”

“No!” The dying Warden insisted. “I’ll only slow you down. Please, just…do this for me. It is all I ask.” After confirming his final wish, he passed away there on the cold ground.  Standing, Izarre twisted the ring on his finger once more as he growled, stomping away in frustration. It wasn’t because he had lost another Warden. No, his rage stemmed from a scenario which was far too close to his heart. What if it were Alistair there begging a stranger to return his wedding ring rather than save his life? What if it was him there asking someone to return his ring to Alistair? Was this the fate of all Wardens? To die in a cave filled with darkspawn if the taint did not take you first?

It was the cackles of a second ghoul which snapped Izarre back to reality. Creating two new ice daggers, he turned to face the darkness ahead. “Is that…your armor?” Anders smirked, unable to control himself as he saw what had made such a terrible sound. “On a lady? I suppose your clothes were too small to fit a normal-sized man then?” he teased the already frustrated Commander. Not wanting to put holes into his own clothes, the daggers were flung into the eye sockets of the staggering creature with unparalleled and cringe-worthy accuracy. As the woman fell to the ground, Izarre grumbled as he removed his armor from her still quivering body. Anders stopped his joking long enough to at least assist in the retrieval of the armaments and naturally, was all too happy to help in the subsequent redressing of his favored apprentice.

“So this leaves yours and Justice’s equipment?” Velanna asked, remembering the names of at least one of them.

“Seems that way,” Anders smiled. “My armor was specially made for me by the Commander over there. It holds more than just a monetary value. First time I was given a pair of pants, to be honest. The Circle rather have us all in robes like matching slaves for convenience’s sake. To have something uniquely mine is…important.”

“…My armor was not specially-made,” Justice sulked as if he were a bit jealous over the fact. “It was armor that was already on this body when I crossed over from the Fade. I have no need for mortal possessions...”

“Yet, you asked us to find you a ring made of lyrium,” the Blonde rebutted.

“Only because it sings!” the Spirit protested with a huff. The childish arguing gave Izarre some more time enough reclaim his father’s sword and off-hand dagger; a gaudy thing with a jeweled-encrusted gold hilt and the royal seal of Ferelden.

“Here,” he said as he handed it to Justice.  “Even with a main hand and a shield, you should carry a sidearm.”

“…But this is yours?” Justice asked with a puzzled expression.

“It is, but you’re right. I haven’t outfitted you properly since you joined us. Take it as a token of appreciation. It also bears the royal seal, so it will stop those wanting to question you about your…existence. Besides,” Izarre smiled as he effortlessly created another ice blade in his now empty hand. “This is becoming much easier to control thanks to Anders. I may never cast spells out of some dusty old book, but at least I can use some of this magic to my own advantage.”

“Grimoire,” Anders corrected. “It’s called a grimoire and even if you’ll never use one, you should at least call it by its proper name,” he grumbled until he spotted the two more ghouls walking around in his stylish jacket and Justice’s blackened plate metal. “Which I actually wish I had one right now to throw at these blasted things! Hey! By Andraste’s name, if you ruin a single feather on MY coat, I swear by all that is holy, you will beg to see the Maker’s bosom by the time I get through with you!”

 Extending his hands and fingers, his initial reflex was to cast fire. While highly effective against the undead, he had to remember the risk of setting his own equipment aflame. This would not only include his armor, but also Sir Pounce-a-lot who was likely still snuggled up under papers in his stolen satchel. The bright light from his fingertips changed from red-orange to white instead, opting to cast a crushing prison rather take the gamble against his kitten and his clothing.

With his new dagger, Justice ran over to simply stab into the thief seemingly without caring about the damage he would cause, but the enchantment created was something none of the others had ever seen before.  The soul of the man the ghoul was before it turned was pulled from the body as the dagger was removed and dissipated into thin air. There was also wasn’t even a stab wound in the metal as if Justice cut through directly into the Fade and avoided scarring the real world entirely. Pleased with himself, he even hummed as he stripped the lifeless body to put his armor back on. “Commander? Please assist. These buckles are tiring…”

“I…Yes. Of course,” Izarre nervously agreed and quickly adjusted the hard to reach straps as if he were helping Alistair as he always did. Anders also moved to retrieve his belongings; the most important being Ser Pounce-a-Lot, who awoke from his nap when his ears were tickled and greeted his owner with a mew.

“How in the world did he survive all of this?” Izarre asked as he curiously peeked into the bag as he was given it to hold as Anders clothed himself.

“I enchanted his collar with several protection runes,” the Mage smiled proudly. “We fight all sorts of nasties and he’s my big brave boy, aren’t you?” he cooed once he pulled his coat on and took the satchel back to tease the cat some more.

“…Right. Well. Now that we’re back up to standards, we have to find a way out of here still,” the Commander addressed.

“Which is probably through that giant darkspawn dragging that maul coming directly towards us?”

“Maul?” Izarre turned to see what was being referred to as he also heard the scratching noises of the massive metal hammer being dragged across the stone. Instead of saying something witty to tease Anders with, he began to twist his wedding ring around his finger again. His eyebrows furrowed as anger began to build up as if this same monster had injured _his_ Alistair instead of some other Warden.  “Stand back,” he ordered with a bit more bass to his voice. “This one is mine. You three go around to see if you can find a way around.

“Izz, you can’t possibly…” Anders began to protest, but stopped himself as he was shot an unwelcomed glare. “Right. Going to look for another path. Try not to die.”

Alone, the Commander looked at his family’s sword in one hand before dropping it the ground. Since leaving Highever and meeting with other mages, they had all agreed on the same damn thing; to let magic flow through him. Without the security of a physical weapon, he charged forward. As the maul was swung, he managed to jump away from it without being hit to slash at the darkspawn’s heavily plated chest. The ice chipped upon impact, but quickly regenerated its pointy tip. Still, it was not enough to cause any real damage. _Denser_ , Izarre thought to himself. He needed something heavier and sharper. A single dagger, no matter what element it was made of, was not enough to pierce through.

It was Alistair who flashed through his mind. His kind eyes, his charming smile, his terrible jokes, but none more so helpful than remembering the King’s broad sword which penetrated through Loghain’s armor on that fateful day. As this rogue slash mage was up against an equally clad warrior, something of equal in measure with Alistair’s choice of arms was also needed. Placing his hands together, Izarre’s eyes closed to think on his lover’s weapon. There was a small curve in the hilt followed by an arm’s length of sharp edges. He remembered the weight of it as he held it close, the heat which lingered from Alistair’s grip.

After a blind swing, his eyes opened to see what had occurred. The handle of the massive hammer was in two pieces and the darkspawn who wielded it was on his knees as the giant slash across his abdomen bled out. The ice which formed the sword was so cold, it burned Izarre’s hands through his gloves, but he still managed to pierce the darkspawn’s skull with it and pressed it down until only the hilt was visible. Letting go, he stepped back to admire his handy work as the penetrated monster froze over, its skin cracking before exploding as the magic grew unstable. A piece of frozen flesh cut across his uncovered face and he removed the smoking gloves to see his palms red and irritated.  

Still with a smile, he picked up his family’s sword to secure it on his belt before digging through the iced remnants barehanded. There he saw it, a small, cheap gold ring with a promise of love engraved on its inner circle. As he picked it up, the ice it was encased in melted away.

“We found a way…oh. I see you didn’t need our help after all. You…did this intentionally, yes? I hope? Sweet Maker, you’re shivering!” Anders rambled as he took the reddened hands into his own to heal.

“More or less. I had to improvise a bit, but Alistair helped.”

“He…is here…in your heart, I suppose? But you know that I…we…are actually here. In person. You shouldn’t have sent us ahead to scout.”

“You’re just worried I’m using you as dragon bait,” Izarre teased his mentor before sticking out his tongue and pulled his hands away. “Do not fret over me. There are never any _real_ dragons in dark caves like these…except for Archdemons in the Deep Roads. The most we have to worry about are drakes…probably.”

“Probably?”

“Probably,” Izarre shrugged and began to walk in the direction he was shown where they may finally be a way out. It was at least clear of any other immediate threats. Too clear, if he were being honest with himself.

“I’ve seen a place like this before,” Justice spoke out of tension. “A large room with balconies…”

“An arena,” Anders frowned as him senses told him to look upward. Izarre did as well, frowning at what he saw there. It was the twisted emissary from before. To the left was a female dwarf with dead eyes and black pox marks on her face and to his right stood Seranni, showing her true allegiance to the darkspawn. As she smiled fondly at him, she turned to look down at her shocked sister while the Wardens stood underwhelmed and not surprised by the revelation at all until the screeching from two crimson-red dragon thralls caught their attention.

“Those…do not look like drakes, Commander,” Justice frowned.

“I said probably!” Izarre laughed and he held onto his own regular sword for this fight, not willing to test his magic again against the twin serpents nor was he completely healed from his previous encounter. His burned hands shook noticeable, forcing him to only use his right arm with a relaxed grip.

“Remind me never to take your side in a bet,” Anders said as he began to cast a protection spell against the inevitable incoming blazes. Meanwhile, Velanna ignored the danger as she yelled towards her sibling.

“Seranni! Why?! Why are you doing this!?” she called out desperately, but there was no response. The young elf with the deforming face only looked down at her with pity as she wrapped herself around the emissary’s arm as if they were lovers and Velanna simply just did not understand how she felt about him. Even without the help of the elven mange, the first of the two dragons was finally taken down as Justice used his shield to decapitate it while Anders had trapped the second beast to the ground using a binding circle, allowing for Izarre to jump on its back and stab it through the spine.

Disappointed, the emissary turned to his enthralled women and gestured for them to leave through a tunneled hole which led back into the catacombs. “No!” Velanna screamed to Izarre. “Why is she with that monster? We must get to her!” The Commander glanced over to Justice before addressing the woman.

“Your…sister is lost, I’m afraid. She is tainted and turned. I’ve seen it before, but never with such a willing participate. I am sorry…but there’s nothing we can do. They will head to the Deep Roads, most likely, where she will…be turned into one of them…for breeding.”

“The home of the children of Stone. Yes…” she muttered her thoughts out loud. “They say you Wardens can sense darkspawn even deep beneath the ground. I would join the Grey Wardens. Give me the ability to hunt down these monsters in the Deep!” As Justice stepped behind Velanna, Izarre eyed him again before addressing her demands.

“You…are only interested in finding your sister,” he said with a frown. “If given the choice between saving her or your fellow Wardens, you would abandon the Order as you did just now. You have already killed innocent people in your quest for vengeance…and I see that it is the only thing that drives you still. I’m…sorry, but you’ve done too much harm already.” Before turning away entirely, the Prince gave the nod Justice had been waiting for. As Velanna was about to speak up in protest, she gasped as a sword pierced through her back and out of her stomach.

“You...,” she stammered as it was pulled out, falling to her knees as she covered the gash with an arm yet blood still poured from her abdomen. “I will…not forget this…Seranni…” She spoke was her sister’s name over and over as a red-painted hand reached out towards where she had seen her last.

“No!” Anders cried out and ran toward Velanna, but Izarre held him back.

“She killed too many people, Anders! You saw the bodies!”

“She did it to save her family! What would you have done!?” he protested as he violently pulled away. “Why did you kill her?! She was helping us!”

“Because she killed without remorse! If we didn’t stop her, she would have continued to do so! If she were made a Warden, even if she survived the Joining, do you honestly believe she would think of us first? It’s for the good of the Order and…”

“To hell with the Order, Izz!”

“Do not call me that!” The sudden change in Izarre’s stance and voice caused Anders to stop fighting the smaller man’s grip on his arms. “I am your Commander and you will remember this or so help me, Mage! I gave the order to put down a dangerous apostate and you will not question me!”

“…Is that all I am to you? Some apostate you scooped up for the good of the Order?” Anders spoke sadly in a lowered voice. Izarre returned the expression and turned to walk toward the light near the end of the corridor where he assumed the exit was.

“…We’re all expendable, Anders. We have one job to do despite our personal feelings. I can only hope that you have the courage to do what is necessary in order to save the people you care about, otherwise what good are we? She was dangerous, we all are, and if any of us were in her position, we should be dealt with as well. That includes you, Justice, and even me. I pray you realize this should that time ever come to past.”

“Justice was done, Mortal,” the Spirit added as gently as possible. “As the leader, he makes the sacrifices we cannot make ourselves. To do what must be done and to save who he can. She was a threat not only to those she had already slain, but to us as well.” Anders looked to Justice, then to Izarre, and finally at the pool of blood Velanna was lying in. Not another word was spoken as the Wardens exited the cave. While Nathaniel and Oghren were happy to see their friends again, even they could pick up on the tension between the two mages which remained until they arrived at the gate to Vigil’s keep.

“Ser,” the young messenger woman greeted the Commander as she handed him a thick piece collection of folded parchment bound with red silk and a dried out rose. “A letter for you from his Majesty marked urgent has arrived!” As quick as lightning, he snatched the bundle and ran off towards his room so it could be read in private. He even waved off the Seneschal and told the older man to do whatever he wanted with the nobles as he had no time to worry about property disputes or bridges at the moment. Meanwhile, what he had said to Anders churned inside of Blonde’s chest. Several hours and strong drinks later, he found himself banging loudly against Izarre’s locked door. While he was expecting to be standing out there for some time, he heard the latch unlock after the first round of knocking and the door creaked open as an invitation.

Confused, he stepped inside as he prepared himself to yell or be yelled at, but his voice caught in his throat as he saw his Commander standing by the open window wearing only a thin, nearly transparent, white silk nightshirt which matched his long, loosely hanging hair as it blew in the wind. The moon as full that night and it illuminated the room enough to see his full form. He had a glass of wine in one hand and the bottle in the other as his bed was covered with dried rose petals and a spread of pages from Alistair’s letter. Whatever Anders original plan had been to confront Izarre in regards to Velanna was quickly forgotten as he was now more concerned with young man’s unusually solemn state. Sitting on the bed, he frowned as he went through the scattered written pages. “Bad news?”


End file.
